Fury Road
by penelope lemon
Summary: He's on the run and she's looking for an escape. A chance meeting gets them both what they want. Now, the only thing standing in the way of their freedom is a thousand miles of post apocalyptic wasteland and a group of Riders out for their blood. (A modern/post apocalyptic AU)
1. A New Ride (Part One)

**A New Ride**

Flynn could no longer ignore the rattling coming from the hood of his 1969 Mustang. He also couldn't ignore the fact that he had only put about a hundred miles between him and the Brothers. It would take them less than an hour to catch up if he pulled over for maintenance.

He'd found himself in a most unfavorable predicament, but not impossible.

His dark eyes flickered to the review mirror. A billowing cloud of red sand kicked up from under his wheels, powering along at over ninety miles an hour according to his speedometer, but it wasn't fast enough. His gaze lingered on the two black dots on the horizon, shrouded by clouds of dust from their own vehicles. There was no way he was going to let them drag him back to that hell hole called the Compound. Flynn turned his attention back to the road, shifting the clutch and pressing his foot down on the accelerator. The engine revved and the rattling from the spark plugs misfiring became louder.

He had been on the road nonstop for the past four days. The rattling had become increasingly worse with each mile he drove. Two days after his escape from the Compound, he thought luck was on his side. He hadn't seen sign of the Brothers—two red headed Neanderthals with a vengeance for him since their first meeting—for hours and so pulled over in the nearest town to tune up his car and find something to eat. Someone must have spotted his yellow Mustang, or the insignia on his neck, and notified the other Riders, because within a few short minutes he was surrounded and fighting for his life. He managed to escape for a second time, but not without major bodily damage to both his car and himself. He hadn't been able to stop since then; the Brothers had been on his tail, tracking his every move, just one step behind him. He was getting desperate now and he knew that as he approached a mechanic shop, that it would be his final saving grace. After that, he wasn't sure he'd be able to pull over again. He was out of luck and out of options. He had no other choice but to risk it.

It didn't look like much from the side of the road, but even so, Flynn pressed the gas further down and sped up. It was a short, two story wood building with roof tiles missing and grimy windows of warped glass. Attached to the side of it, almost like an afterthought, was a grey cement building with two open bay doors. Cars littered the surrounding area like a graveyard of metal, rust and rubber. Shabbily built engines, massive tractor tires, and half buried bumpers worked like a minefield between the discarded vehicles.

He hardly slowed down as he pulled off the cracked and worn road. His car swung over the uneven ground as he approached the shop. He pulled into the open bay, his tires screaming over the crumbling cement floor as he jerked to a stop next to a Datsun 280z propped up on a car lift. He killed the engine and climbed out, glancing through the smoke and sand he had just kicked up, at the distant figures that were following him.

"Can I help you?"

He turned at the sound of a soft, sweet voice. She appeared from under the car lift. She had long blonde hair down to her waist, and it was matted with curls and pulled away from her face in a thick braid. She was petite, but looked strong enough, and carried herself like she could hold her own. That was lucky for her. Even the slightest show of weakness and the Wasteland would have swallowed her whole. Eyebrows furrowed over her bright green eyes at the sight of Flynn's appearance.

The sand and sweat on his face had gathered and ran in muddy rivulets down his temples. His lip was still split from two days ago and there was dried blood in his mussed hair. His favorite leather jacket was torn and his boots were so caked with dirt it was hard to tell what color they truly were. His sawed off shotgun was still strapped to his left thigh and the girl eyed it wearily. He didn't have time to muse over his appearance though, and so ignored her questioning stare.

"I need to replace the spark plugs," he said quickly and went to the hood of his car. He lifted it, so the girl could look over his engine. "Platinum. Have any?"

"Yes," she said as her eyes roamed the V8. Flynn tapped his index finger against his thigh, impatiently waiting as she studying the engine. "But they don't come cheap," she added.

Flynn shook his head. Nothing came cheap anymore, except people.

"Money isn't an issue. How soon can you fix it?"

She shrugged. "I'll need to wait for the engine to cool and loosen the mounts. Probably forty five minutes."

She was fast, but not fast enough. Paranoid, Flynn glanced over the top of the hood at the sun scorched landscape beyond the repair shop The Brothers would be closing in within forty five minutes and it would be too late. Flynn needed to negotiate more time.

He turned to the girl again. She had drawn a step back, her body tense and her eyes guarded and glaring. "We don't service Riders," she snarled.

Flynn's hand flew to the back of his neck where the Riders insignia had been burned into his flesh when he was young. His fingers ran over the singed skin as he realized that he girl had seen his mark and his cover had been blown. Not that he had purposefully tried to hide it from her, but people tended to respond negatively towards Riders, so he had no intention of shouting it to the world.

Realizing his mistake, he reached out suddenly like a rattle snake going for a bite. He grabbed the girl by her upper arm and yanked her back towards his car before she could react.

"You do now," he growled and with his free hand, reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small wad of crumpled bills. "Do this change in thirty minutes and I'll pay you triple the going rate."

Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of cash. It seemed to do the trick; that or he had scared her into accepting the job. Either way, she nodded slowly and Flynn released her arm, tucking away the money. If she could finish in time, he might be able to put some distance between himself and the Brothers. He watched as she went to the supply shelves, pulling down parts and tools and going to work. He glanced around the garage; filthy, barren and falling apart, just like every other thing in this world. His gazed rested on a heavy door, with a porthole window on it. Through the glass, he could make out a bar in the other half of the shop, and at the prospect of water he suddenly realized how desperately thirsty he was.

He glanced at the girl, who was dragging a fan over to the Mustang, focused on the task at hand. He went to the door and pushed it open.

The bar was near empty, save for a few burly men and a woman with frizzy black hair. Three men sat in the back corner at a dark table. One of them had a short goatee and another sneered at Flynn with yellow and missing teeth.

He ignored them and moved to a table by the large, cracked window at the front of the shop. Here, he would be able to keep his eyes on the young mechanic and the Brothers, should they appear.

The woman with frizzy hair approached.

"Can I get you anything handsome?" she asked in a gravelly voice, that maybe would have passed for sultry if she had been younger.

"Any bourbon?" Flynn replied and woman snorted.

"Do we look like a place that would carry bourbon?" she asked.

Flynn frowned. "Water will do fine," he growled and the woman slipped away.

He anxiously bounced his leg as he waited, eyes fixed on the horizon. Freedom was so close to him. He just had to lose the Brothers and he would be a free man, but that was proving more and more difficult. He knew escaping the Riders would be no easy task, but this game of cat and mouse was beginning to take its toll. He was hungry, in pain and exhausted, but he would readily battle a little fatigue before turning himself over to the Brothers. He had come this far, and he was never going back to the Compound again.

Movement out of the corner of his eye distracted Flynn from his thoughts.

He looked down to see a mangy looking Koolie eyeing him. His fur was on end and there was a chunk of flesh missing from his left ear. Flynn frowned and kicked his boot towards the dog to shoo him away. The dog growled, bearing his teeth, and Flynn growled back.

"Down Max," the frizzy haired woman said to the dog as she reappeared with a drink. The dog reluctantly laid down but did not take his guarded attention off Flynn. She set the water down in front of Flynn and said, "If you need anything else sweetheart give me a shout. The name's Gothel."

Flynn looked at the glass of clouded water and gulped it down as Gothel went behind the bar.

Flynn was not a patient man, and every minute that ticked by he realized was a minute wasted. The longer he sat at the table, the more agitated he became. His leg began bouncing under the table, his hand hovering over his left thigh, ready to pull the shot gun at any moment.

He had been driving west for days without proper rest, constantly staring at the road ahead of him, and the sudden stillness in the bar made him restless but exhausted. He tried to fight the drowsiness that closed in around him, but when he went to blink, he found it hard to open his eyes again to the bright, sun scorched earth. So he sat there for a moment, thinking.

It was almost instantaneous, the way the sounds and images of the Compound came back to him the moment he closed his eyes. He could hear the war drums, smell the hot gasoline. The dark, windowless tower of a building that had sucked every bit of life from him came together easily in his minds eye. The face of his mentor and protector, a man the other Riders called Snowman, flickered through his memories, Snowman's old face watching him with callous and pride. The salty smell of sweat and blood was familiar. The cries that came late at night from the bowels. The Brothers. Favorite. An orphanage.

The door to the garage swung open and Flynn jumped, his eyes snapping open and the memories vanishing. He wheeled around, hand on his holster, only for realize it was the mechanic. He let out a breath. The girl's gaze swept over the joint before she moved to Flynn's tabled and slid into the seat across from him. She took a moment to say anything, quite frankly looking a little frightened to be speaking to him. He regarded her coolly, completely used to the alarmed nature of the girl. He saw it often with people who had come across Riders before.

"We've a bit of a problem," she finally said slowly and Flynn struggled to keep his face stoic. A problem was the last thing he needed. "I'm short two spark plugs. We don't get shipments out here for another month but you might be able to make it to..."

Flynn's fingers curled into fists. "That won't be necessary," he interrupted. "Forget the last two plugs and finish. I need to be on my way."

"But—"

Maximus the dog rose to his feet, ears perked and nose pointed. Flynn looked at the animal, feeling his blood run cold as the rumble of engines filled his ears. He knew those engines. He glanced at the two motorcycles that rolled up to the garage. Two men dismounted from either one. Their red hair had been haphazardly shaved from their heads and their faces were scarred and freckled. They wore leather and armor made from various pieces of tough material; shoulder pads made of Kevlar, strapped into place across their chests, boots reinforced with a steel toe, fingerless gloves and modified welding goggles around their necks. They carried crossbows slung over their backs and revolvers attached to their belts. The metal cinches and buckles of their clothing clinked with each step they took towards the garage, beady eyes on Flynn's car.

Flynn kicked his seat back and ducked under the window to avoid sight. He pressed his back against the wall of the joint, cursing himself for being so distracted and careless. He knew better than to underestimate the Brothers. This wasn't usually like him.

The girl remained in her seat and watched the men circle Flynn's yellow Mustang. She looked at the stranger, now crouched on the floor, her face slightly pinched with worry.

"I never should have agreed to work on your car," she breathed. "You've brought trouble. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Trouble always follows a Rider."

Flynn ignored her, rising just enough to peer over the window sill and look at the Brothers. He ducked again.

"You seem to be in quite a predicament," the girl commented and Flynn wished that she would shut up and leave him alone while he planned an escape. She leaned over the table to get a better look at him on the floor. "What did you do? Steal from them? Do you owe them something? A vehicle? Money?" She fell quiet for a few seconds then said, "I can help you."

Flynn's eyes snapped up to the girls face and she looked like she instantly regretted saying what she had.

"How?" Flynn asked and she bit her bottom lip, looking worried. " _How?_ " he asked again, voice growing harsh.

"You're in trouble and need a way out," she said, voice dropping to a whisper, "I can get you away from here without being spotted but on one condition—I go with you."

Flynn's response was quick and firm. "No."

"You won't be able to get five miles without them catching you. There's hundreds of miles of dessert between here and civilization and hardly anywhere to hide. Unless you count the Canyonlands, which you won't last ten seconds in. I know the area, I can help. I need to get out of here as badly as you do but I need a driver. We can help each other."

"No," Flynn repeated. "I don't do partnerships."

The girl seemed like she wanted to argue her case further, but thought better of it and quieted down, sitting back in her seat dejectedly. Flynn watched as Gothel moved towards the door that led to the garage and pushed it open. Flynn cursed to himself and, keeping low, he went to the door after her. He peered through the porthole window, watching as the woman exchanged a few words with the Brothers.

He lowered himself under the window again. He needed to think. If he could just get to his Mustang then perhaps he could out maneuver the Brothers. The girl had a point though, he wouldn't be able to get very far. If he went off road and went through the Canyonlands to the south of the shop, he could lose them through spires and red rock walls. That place was taboo to drivers though and Flynn knew he'd be signing his own death warrant. It was absolutely riddled with dangers, and if the vagabonds that guarded the place didn't take your life, then the labyrinth of the canyon would. It would be suicide. Even the Riders, the most feared gang that prowled the Wasteland, knew to stay away from the Canyonlands.

Flynn rubbed his hands across his face, scratching his goatee. He didn't have any other options and he was running out of time. The Brothers would come through that door any minute looking for him. He went back to the table and slid into his seat. The girl looked up at him.

"You've got yourself a deal," he said and the girl lit up.

"Really?" she breathed.

"Get me out of here alive and I'll take you where you need to go," Flynn replied. "But we need to go now."

She nodded quickly and jumped to her feet. She crossed the bar and Flynn followed close behind. Nails clicking against the wood floor told Flynn that Maximus the dog wasn't far behind. The girl paused at the back table of men that had been silently watching everything unfold in front of them. Flynn had almost forgotten they were there.

"Tor? Vladimir? Greno?" She directed to the men, "Can you buy us some time?"

The man with the goatee raised his hand in mock salute. She smiled and led Flynn behind the bar and through a back door. It opened into a small, dark storage room, with shelves of supplies on all three walls. Cans of food, a mop and bucket, extra lightbulbs and stacks of cheap alcohol. She and the dog followed in after him, closing the door.

"This is a dead end!" he hissed. It was damp and dark in the room, the only light coming from the slit between the bottom of the door and the floor.

"Trust me," the girl replied.

He could hear voices in the bar.

"Where is he?"

There was a crash.

"You two need to leave now!"

The scraping of chair legs against the wood floor.

"I believe _this_ is the man you're looking for."

Flynn turned to the girl who took a flashlight off one of the shelves and pulled back a fraying rug to reveal a trap door. She linked her fingers through a knot hole in the floor and tugged. The door swung open to reveal an iron ladder. She indicated for Flynn enter and he did, taking the rungs two at a time. When he hit the bottom, she tossed down the dog. He caught the Koolie with a huff then lowered him to the ground. The dog growled at him then ran off down the dark tunnel. She followed and closed the door after them.

"Are we supposed to hide down here until they're gone?" Flynn asked skeptically.

"Not exactly," she said and clicked on the flashlight, illuminating the tunnel and casting a soft glow onto their faces. She followed the dog down the tunnel and Flynn followed her.

The tunnel was a straight shot, no twists or turns. There were barrels full of Flynn could only guess what stacked on top of each other against the dirt wall. They looked like petroleum tanks, but that was impossible. They walked in silence. The girl kept glancing at the barrels, her lips moving silently as she counted. When she finally reached the one she was looking for, she handed Flynn the flashlight. He shone the light on her as she popped the top of the tank and reached in. She pulled out a black duffle bag and slung is across her shoulder. She grabbed a brown knapsack and tossed it to Flynn.

"How long have you been planning to leave?" Flynn asked as he held up the bag. She had been prepared.

"Long time," she replied, "I just never really had the chance…or the courage."

They continued walking until the tunnel ended suddenly. The beam of light from the flashlight fell on another iron ladder. Flynn followed it up until he saw the underside of a manhole cover. The mechanic climbed the ladder and placed both hands on the cast iron cover. She grunted and lifted it away. A waterfall of sand poured into the tunnel, indicating to Flynn that the cover hadn't been moved in ages. The two of them covered their noses with their arms to keep the cloud of dust at bay. Heavy sunlight streamed through the opening and the girl climbed out. Flynn clicked off the flashlight and stowed it in the knapsack. He grabbed the dog and awkwardly climbed the ladder to the top, the Koolie under one arm and his free hand grasping the ladder rungs. He hoisted himself out of the man hole and dropped the dog, who bounded over to his owner. Flynn brushed himself off then shoved the manhole cover back in its place, covering it with sand to hide it.

"So are we going to walk?" Flynn asked. He turned to the north where he could just make out the leaning mechanic shop. It was skewed with a mirage that the tense heat had created. He couldn't make out any details, and so wasn't sure if the Brothers were still inside or if they had figured out by now he had escaped. The tunnel had lead them farther than he thought.

"I thought we could take this."

Flynn turned back in time to see the girl approach, what he assumed to be, a massive tanker beneath a pair of white tarps. She reached up and yanked the first sheet off, then the other. They fluttered to the ground, revealing the vehicle beneath. The tarps didn't do much too actually hide the tanker, but camouflaged it well enough that Flynn had completely missed it when he pulled up to the garage.

Now that he was witnessing the machine up close, he couldn't believe that he had missed something so wicked looking. He stared in awe. The original paint had been black, but years in the desert sand and heat had caused it to take on a rusted grey color. Mud caked each of the eighteen, thirty inch tires, each outfitted with spiked hubcaps. The front carriage had dual exhaust stacks on either side of the cabin and a pair of superchargers protruded from the hood. The front grill was reinforced with metal plating and Flynn noted the large animal skull attached to it. Nice touch. On the rear of the tanker, welded to the top, was a chopped Volkswagen type 1 that served as a lookout turret; it offered the lookout protection from the sun and wind while allowing them a better view of anything behind the tanker.

Flynn had seen plenty of modified cars in his day. Everything from armored Cadillac Eldorados to lightweight single deck school buses with cannon blasters. This rig, however, took the cake. He watched as the girl opened the drivers side door and slid in, Maximus jumping in after her. The two looked like they had been swallowed up by a giant metal monster.

"Are you coming or are you just going to sit there and wait for them to catch you?" The girl called from the passenger seat.

Flynn scowled, already regretting letting the girl tag along.

He jogged to the tanker, hoisting himself up into the drivers seat. As his fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, he could hear the whine of the Brothers motorcycles. They knew they had been outsmarted and it wouldn't take them long to locate the tanker. It was so large it wouldn't be able to outrace the motorcycles like his Mustang would have, but he didn't have to run with a rig like this. The tanker would crush the Brothers' motorcycles like a beetle under a boot. If anything could get the Brothers off Flynn's trail for good, it was this.

He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life, making him grin. This was his chance, the solution to all his problems. This tanker would get him his freedom.

"Can you drive this?" the girl asked.

He looked at her as he shifted the tanker into gear and flipped a few switches on the dashboard. "I can drive anything," he replied as the vehicle rocked forward into drive. His foot hovered over the gas pedal and he said, "Hold tight, Blondie."


	2. The Canyonlands (Part Two)

**The Canyonlands**

The girl ordered Maximus into the back seat and the dog did as he was told. She then tossed back the black duffle and knapsack.

They were blazing along to the south and red line of rock rose out of the horizon. The entry to the Canyonlands lay ahead of them, the Brothers, just behind them. Both pointed towards death, but if he died in the Canyonlands then at least he would die a free man.

Climbing into the eighteen wheeler, he noted that the modifications weren't limited to the outside of the truck. There was a built in roll cage within the cab, and a large compass mounted on the dashboard. The back bench seat had been completely rebuilt and he briefly wondered what else had been done to the truck. He wasn't really in a situation to admire the handy work of the vehicle at the moment, but he made a mental note to ask about it later.

His eyes slid to the girl. She should be scared. She should be second guessing her decision of escaping with a Rider. She should be telling him to pull over and let her out of the deal. But as Flynn looked over at her, expecting to see uncertain fear, he saw she was smiling. She was gazing out the front windshield with a sort of dreamy look in her eyes, her chapped lips split in a small grin. He raised his eyebrow questioningly. It had been a long time since he'd seen a look like that on anyone's face. There were few things left in this world to be glad about.

"I can't believe I did this," she breathed, mostly to herself, but loud enough Flynn could hear. "I _can't_ believe I _did_ this."

Flynn pursed his lips. Whatever the girl had back at the garage must have been truly terrible to make the Canyonlands seem like a happy escape.

"Listen Blondie, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but we're not out of the woods yet," he said.

His gaze flickered to the side view mirror instinctively. Two black figures were making their way steadily towards them, and they were gaining. The shop was nothing but a dot on the horizon now. He knew it wouldn't have taken the Brothers long to figure out that he has escaped. They had probably torn the garage apart while the two of them were still in the tunnel, and then had seen the tanker pull out towards the canyons. They had barely put a few minutes between them, but it was enough for Flynn.

He turned forward as they approached the Canyonlands; his last saving grace. Taking the Canyonlands was a dangerous gamble for them, but it was ironically the safest bet to make his final escape. Besides, given the two options, he would rather take his chances with canyon buzzards and rock slides over the Brothers. They still had a few good miles between them and the canyon wall, but Flynn could now make out a narrow gap in the rock barley twenty feet wide.

"Just keep her straight," the girl instructed, pointing.

Maximus was sitting on the bench seat, panting and whining. Flynn shot the dog a glare.

"Who are those men?" she asked.

"They're names are Pulluox and Castor but we just call them the Brothers," he said. "Nasty men who you do not want on your bad side. They're as merciless as they are stupid."

"Why are they after you?"

"That's a story for another day," he replied, his voice almost like a growl.

They were coming up on the Canyonlands, just as the Brothers were closing the gap between them. They pulled up alongside the tanker, one motorcycle flanking each side. Flynn watched as one of the Brothers appeared outside his window; it was Pollux, according to the long scar across his jawline. Rapunzel turned to watch the Brother approaching her side. Castor pulled out the revolver attached to his waist and had it aimed at the girl. He steadied his arm and curled his finger around the trigger, the barrel of the gun pointed right between her eyes. He pulled the trigger and the bullet ripped through the gun and exploded out the muzzle.

Flynn didn't have time to react. He yelled at the girl to take cover and flung his arm out to shield her from the gunfire but the bullet had already dislodged and shattered against the glass of the window. The loud crack of the bullet against the glass made him flinch instinctively and he jerked the steering wheel to the left. Both Brothers had to swerve to avoid being crushed beneath the eighteen wheeler tires, and Flynn and the girl were thrown against their seatbelts.

Flynn released his grip on the young mechanic and slapped his hand to the wheel, cranking it back to the right to straighten them out. He looked wildly over at the girl, expecting to see blood trickling down her forehead, but she gazed back at him, eyes wide with fear and panting heavily, but without a scratch on her. His gaze flickered to the window, which was still miraculously intact.

"It's _bullet proof_?" he yelled incredulously over the sound of engines and shots being fired. Pullox shot off a few rounds, attempting to weaken the glass on Flynn's side.

The girl didn't answer, just kept her eyes on the Canyonlands as they approached.

"It's coming up!" she warned, ignoring his question and pointing through the dirty windshield at the towering rock in front of them. "The gap is just over eleven feet wide and this truck is nine feet. You've got about three spare feet to work with!"

He looked to where she was pointing. The crevasse in the rock didn't look wide enough, but as he quickly scanned the surrounding canyon, he realized it was the only way in or out that was big enough for the tanker. Flynn grit his teeth and his hands tightened on the wheel so hard that his blood caked knuckles turned white. His foot pushed the accelerator to the floor and the engine of the tanker roared with effort. Three feet may as well have been three inches for all the good it did him. Blazing along at ninety miles an hour, if they so much as nicked the rock, the tanker and them would be a permanent part of the landscape, no matter how many modifications had been made to the vehicle.

His heart pounded in his chest. He watched as the girl braced herself against the dashboard. In the back, Maximus the dog whimpered then dunked under the seat. He turned back to the opening, eyes focused.

He was not going to die here.

He was not going to let them die because of him.

They drew closer, the entrance to the Canyonlands seemingly like the mouth of a monster, open and waiting to swallow them whole. Flynn fought the instinct to take his foot off the gas as fifty feet turned into twenty, which turned into five. He yelled as they shot through the gap. The girl screamed as her side view mirror was ripped off its bolts as the front cabin scrapped alongside the rockface. They managed to clear the gap, a few stray rocks crumbling down the canyon wall after them. The Brothers braked to avoid being crushed between the tanker and the entrance, swerving to avoid the falling earth Flynn had disrupted with the tanker.

As the cleared the other side, Flynn could have laughed with joy at the fact that he had actually driven them through the gap without bashing them against the rock. The canyon opened wider on the other side, but not by much. Rock walls towered over the tanker, putting them at the bottom of a sandy gorge.

"Now what?" he yelled to the girl. The Brothers had dropped behind them a considerable distance, but it wasn't enough.

"Keep ahead of them," she said quickly, "There's a tight turn just a few feet ahead of us on the left. Take it and you'll see where the rock has formed a massive arch over a ravine. That's where we're headed."

Flynn followed the crevasses that wound through the canyon like a giant maze of sand and stone. He hit the brakes and watched the needle drop below sixty miles an hour as he spotted the turn she was talking about. It wasn't narrow like the first gap, but it was a sharp corner, and Flynn had to crank the steering wheel in order to get the truck to follow suit. They turned, and the vehicle leaned heavy onto its right tires, the left side lifting off the ground. He didn't brake enough and the tanker was in danger of rolling.

The girl screamed again and Flynn felt his stomach drop, willing the truck to right itself. He flipped the steering wheel and the tanker bounced back onto all eighteen wheels; the force of the movement snapping both Flynn and the girl side to side. They would have been thrown across the cab if it wasn't for the seatbelts.

As soon as all eighteen wheels were positioned on the ground again, Flynn hit the gas pedal.

Just ahead of them was the arch, suspended over the gorge they were driving through, like a giant bridge. It was just shy of a hundred feet above their heads, and almost as thick as the tanker was long. The arch spanned the length of the gorge, Flynn would guess around a hundred and thirty feet, rounding off the rock walls on either side of them like the opening of a tunnel.

He was busy gazing at the massive rock formation, he almost missed the young girl unbuckling her seatbelt.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She released her belt and brought her feet up unto the seat. She reached up to the acrylic glass sunroof and grasped the black handle there. She glanced at him, her bright green eyes meeting his brown ones. She twisted the handle and released the latch, shoving the sunroof open and flipping it back over the roof of the cab.

"Just _trust_ me!" she called over the sudden whoosh of hot air that came through the cabin.

She slipped through the opening and as her head breached the roof of the cab, the wind whipping her hair in a tornado. The sand in the air stung her cheeks and neck and her vision was blurred with tears. He watched as she cupped her hands around her mouth.

Gun fire rang out from the Brothers and Flynn heard the bullet ping off the top of the tanker. The girl ducked to avoid gunfire, glanced over her shoulder, then quickly yelled, "Blow the arch!" before slipping back into the safety of the cab. She reached up and closed the sunroof with a grunt, latching it tight.

They crossed under the arced rock and there was a few seconds of silence, save for the rumbling of the engines, and then a large blast that reverberated through the canyon walls. The sound made Flynn jump, and he glanced in his side view mirror just in time to see smoke and rock debris erupt from the arch. The rock began to splinter and crack and another loud explosion caused the arch to fall away. Large boulders clapped like thunder as they fell apart and tumbled down, barricading the path they had just come through and trapping Pollux and Castor on the other side. One second the arch loomed over the canyon, and the next it was deduced to a pile of rubble.

He watched it unfold in his mirror, his jaw going slack at the sight. A few words and the girl had saved his life. A massive rock slide and the chase was all over. His grip on the steering wheel loosen, his foot hovering over the accelerator, a sense of relief flooding his body. His throat felt tight with tears at the prospect of never having to see the Brothers, the Compound, or the other Riders ever again. He swallowed thickly, annoyed at himself for being so emotional, but the satisfaction that he had escaped the Riders and lived—something that no one had ever done—was too great. He felt tears burn, and he hurriedly pressed his fingertips to his eyes until they subsided. He cleared his throat, swallowing back the feeling of euphoria and solace until he was back in control.

He glanced at the girl and his whirl of emotions faded until his mouth formed that all too familiar frown of his. She was watching him carefully, her head titled slightly to the side as she studied his sudden, brief change in behavior.

He didn't appreciate her scrutinizing him.

Flynn hit the brakes with such force it propelled the girl forward and Maximus was knocked off the bench seat in the back. The brake pads whined against the friction of the tires and the tanker lurched to a stop.

His moment of relief vanished like a drop of water on hot concrete, replaced by the anger that was there before. What kind of person laced treacherous Canyonlands with booby traps? How on earth had she gotten a hold of so much petroleum hidden in a tunnel under the shop? And where did she get this drastically modified tanker from? He suddenly realized that maybe she shouldn't be worried about him, but rather he should be the one worried about her. He knew nothing of this little mechanic, and in the few minutes they had spent together, he was regretting his decision to strike a deal with her. There was something very secretive about her, and he didn't like it.

Flynn shifted the vehicle into park and climbed out of the driver's seat. He slammed his door shut, rounded the front of the tanker and marched over to the passenger side. He yanked open her door and she stared down at him, puzzled.

"Out," he growled, huffing slightly, and when the girl didn't move, he reached up and pulled her from the cab.

She stumbled out of the truck, nearly going face first into the sand, but Flynn yanked her upright and all but threw her against the body of the vehicle, pinning her back to the hot metal. The dog leaped into the forward seats, then out of the eighteen wheeler, snapping his teeth wildly at Flynn. He ignored the animal.

"Who are you?" Flynn snapped and for added emphasis, gave her arm a firm shake. "I've worked on cars all my life, but I've never seen one like this. Bullet proof glass? And now you've gone a blown part of the Canyonlands! We are not driving another mile until I get some answers."

Her green eyes were wide with fright, but she held his gaze, something not many people did.

She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the all too familiar sound of engines echoed around the canyon.

Flynn rolled his eyes.

Not more motorcycles.

He spun around on his heel and withdrew his sawed shotgun, placing himself between the girl and whoever was approaching. Six men rolled up on motorcycles, forming a sort of half circle around them and the tanker. They cut their engines and Flynn swiveled the gun around to point it at each of the men. They varied in size and stature, but even the smallest of the group matched Flynn's height more or less. They were big, burly men with menacing features and wicked looking weapons slung across their backs. They wore dark sand goggles and bandanas pulled up over their noses like rouge cowboys from the Old World. Flynn licked his lips; he may have been fearless but he wasn't stupid. He knew six to two were not favorable odds.

"Don't shoot!" she girl said behind him, but Flynn did not lower his weapon.

Maximus had finally stopped barking at Flynn and turned his attention to the men. He bounded over to one of them, tailing wagging happily. The man dismounted his motorcycle and reached down to pet the dog. Flynn noticed that the man's left arm was severed just below the elbow, leaving only a mutilated stump for a hand. A metal, prosthetic arm was strapped over his shoulder and around his chest, securing the fake arm to his real forearm. It was crude, and sick looking, and the finger joints more resembled hooks than ligaments. He reached out with his claw for a hand and carefully scratched the Koolie behind the ear.

The girl pushed past Flynn and went to the man, stopping just in front of him.

Flynn wearily lowered his weapon and watched.

"Slit!" the girl said to the hook hand thug.

The man named Slit flicked his beady eyes to Flynn's face, and he held his gaze. Flynn had seen enough in his lifetime to give him nerves of steel, but these men were something else. He had heard plenty of rumors about the ruthless larcenies that prowled the Canyonlands to know that these men were the source of the rumors. And if they were true, these men would have no trouble using his bones as toothpicks. He knew better than to mess with them, which made the girls camaraderie towards them all the more puzzling.

The two stared at each other, sizing one another up, until Slit finally asked, "Who's the show pony?" in a deep and gravelly voice.

Flynn scowled.

"He's a friend," the girl said, and he inwardly cringed at the word 'friend'. "He helped me escape."

The hulky men seemed to relax slightly and so did Flynn. He didn't trust the girl, she was full of too many surprises, but the men seemed to listen to her.

"Where's Gothel?" another asked. He was tall, with a curved hunchback, a large nose, and a face that looked about as appealing as Maximus's rear end.

The girl turned to him. "She's back at the shop," she answered slowly. "She doesn't know I'm here and we'd like to keep it that way."

A collective nod rippled through the group.

"And the arch?" said another man. "Who was following you?"

"A pair of Riders," she explained. "We couldn't shake them. They've been following us since the garage."

Flynn noted the way the men gritted their teeth and gripped their weapons tighter at the mention of Riders. His fingers twitched at his side, itching to reach up to the back of his neck.

The girl turned to Flynn.

"This is Slit and Grinner," she said, pointing to the man with the metal arm and the one with the large nose respectively. "Attila, Bruiser, Gunther and Fang," she finished as she pointed to the rest of the men. "Everyone, this is Flynn. We've made a bit of a deal, you see, and I need to show him the Tower."

All six men turned their eyes to the girl questioningly.

"You know we can't do that Rapunzel," Grinner said.

So that was her name.

Flynn realized they never had proper introduction, not that he especially cared.

She pressed her lips together. "He's my ride out of here and I need him to trust me. I know you won't make me go back to Gothel, please. He needs to know what he's gotten himself into."

The men exchanged hesitant, sour looks.

"You trust him?" Slit asked.

She turned to look at Flynn and he gazed back at her. A few seconds of silence passed and for a moment Flynn thought she was going to turn him over to the men.

"Yes," she said, looking at him and Flynn could see the lie written all over her face. She turned back to her companions. "Please," she said again.

"Fine," Slit finally growled. "But we're taking you there."

The girl beamed up at him. She went on her toes and planted a kiss on his dirty cheek.

"Thank you," she said and turned back to Flynn. He watched as the men climbed back onto their motorcycles, ripping their engines to life.

She turned and made for the tanker, reaching up and opening the passenger door. She whistled for Maximums and he leapt up into the back seat. She made to follow but Flynn grabbed her arm and turned her to face him.

"Why did you say that?" he asked. "Why did you tell them you trust me? I know you don't."

She gazed up at him evenly then yanked her arm out of his grasp with a determination Flynn hadn't see in her since they met. It both surprised and annoyed him.

"Listen," she said, her voice steady as she jabbed a finger at his chest. "I need you and you need me, we are in this together whether you like it or not. This can all go smoothly if we just trust each other, but if we are constantly fighting or looking over our shoulder then we will never get through this. I promise I'll explain everything."

"What's the Tower?" Flynn asked.

"Get in the cab and I'll tell you," Rapunzel negotiated.

She turned on her heel and clambered up into the cabin, slamming the door closed after her. Flynn sighed and glowered at the barricade of rocks in the distance, almost wishing it was him that had been crushed and not the Brothers. He was accustomed to not trusting anyone and he wasn't about to start.

He sighed and glanced over his shoulder; the six brawlers were waiting, mounted on their motorcycles, for Flynn to get behind the wheel. He circled the tanker and climbed into the driver's side. One by one the men peeled away and Flynn brought up the rear, following the line as they wove between rock formations.

He glanced at the girl, Rapunzel, as she sat silently starting out the window with arms crossed over her chest. There was a tension in the cabin that wasn't there before, and feeling his gaze on her, she looked over at Flynn.

"What do you want to know?" she asked evenly.

Flynn turned his attention back to the caravan they were following. "I suppose you should start at the beginning," he muttered.


	3. City of Lights

**City of Lights**

Rapunzel took a deep breath and launched into her backstory, one Flynn was becoming very interested in hearing.

"I don't really remember much from when I was young," she said slowly and her gaze shifted to her hands that were laying in her lap. "It's been Gothel and I for as long as I can recall; me, her and that stupid garage—"

There was a whine from the back seat. A smile flickered across her face and she turned around, reaching across the seat to scratch the dog behind his ear.

"—and Maximus of course," she added. "Gothel taught me everything I know. She used to go out and come back with books on astrology and cooking and mechanics and I would just read _all the time_. I learned everything I could since there wasn't much else to do out there. I got really good with working with my hands and I discovered I had a knack for cars and painting. Even with our shop out in the middle of nowhere, we did pretty well for ourselves…until the Riders came."

Flynn glanced at her out of the corner of his eye but she avoided his gaze and continued.

"I was about eight or so. They came, raided the garage and left, and they came back every few months after that for some sort of payment. Sometimes they would take our savings, or steal a few of the cars I helped Gothel rebuild, sometimes they came for a tune up, and they always left us in worse shape than we were before."

Flynn nodded his head slowly as he listened; it sounded like something the Riders would do. He pursed his lips, suddenly reminded of why he hated the Riders, why he left them, why he was so desperate to escape the only people that could be considered his family.

"That went on for a few years until Gothel hired Slit and Grinner and the rest of those guys to keep us off the Riders radar. When they realized they couldn't intimidate us anymore they left us alone. Thing were quiet after that; too quiet. People stopped coming to the shop for repairs and the few buildings around us just died out. Everyone packed up and left town, leaving me and Gothel. We did the best we could and began realizing that more drastic measures would have to be taken if we wanted to survive. Gothel built the Tower and rigged the Canyonlands a few miles outside the shop in case the Riders ever came back, or if we needed a quick getaway. We bought the tanker and rebuilt it as a precaution."

"Why did you want to leave?" Flynn asked. "It's not like that garage was much of a home but at least you had a roof over your head, and you have these men looking out for you. It's better than what most people have."

She nodded slowly and pondered her answer.

"I felt scared all the time," she finally said slowly and Flynn noted the slight quiver in her voice, "And restless and uncertain. Gothel used to tell me these stories about places outside the Canyonlands and our garage. She always made it seem so terrible but I wanted to find out for myself. And then you came along and everything just seemed to fall into place."

Flynn's brows furrowed. "Why me?" he asked and she looked at him, her nose scrunched in slight confusion at his question. "I mean, why did my arrival put your plan of action into place. If you've been wanting to leave for so long why didn't you just go?"

"I can't drive."

Flynn's gaze snapped to hers and she suddenly looked a little uncertain. "You have got to be kidding me," he grumbled but even as he spoke he saw the hesitant truth on her face. "Everyone is this godforsaken wasteland knows how to drive."

"Well, everyone but me." Was her gentle reply.

"You're a _mechanic_ ," he pointed out.

Rapunzel huffed. "I know the _mechanics_ of driving," she mocked, her meek demeanor replaced with annoyance at Flynn's implied statement. She had fight in her; that much he would give her. "I know an intake stroke on the piston revolves and compresses then the opens the exhaust valves. I know the steering wheel turns the shaft which spins the pinion gear which moves the rack. I get it, I've just never done it before."

"Why not?" Flynn asked, ignoring the daggers she was quietly sending his way.

"Gothel never taught me because she never wanted me to leave, never wanted me to do this," she said and waved her hand vaguely at the landscape that was blurring by. "I suppose if I ever got desperate I would know enough about cars that I could drive one. I was always just too scared to leave Gothel's side until now."

She drew another long breath through her nose, running both hands over her hair and sighing to calm herself. It was odd telling a stranger her story, but it felt good to talk to someone other than Maximus. She glanced at Flynn, who had his gaze fixed on the motorcycles in front of them.

He was still trying to process the fact the girl had never learned how to drive and he had been doing it since he was thirteen. With everything else in the world turning to dust, driving was the about the only thing they had left anymore. It came at a price: gangs, the desert landscape, faulty engines and a shortage on natural resources made driving a risky occupation but it was all anyone ever had.

And knowing the mechanics of a vehicle was only half of the experience. Driving was about…feeling. Feeling the hum of the engine, the vibration of the tires against the cracked asphalt, and feeling of euphoria and freedom that filled Flynn's body when he hit the open road and left the world of the Riders behind. He couldn't imagine where he would be now if he had never learned how to drive.

"So, Flynn, what's your story?" Rapunzel asked, pulling Flynn from his thoughts. Her tone had changed. She was more relaxed. "How does a man like you end up a War Dog for the Riders?"

"Whoa, no, Blondie," Flynn said hastily with a shake of his head, "I don't do backstories."

"You heard mine."

"I don't care. You don't get to hear mine."

She frowned but didn't push her luck, to which Flynn was grateful. She settled back in her seat and they lapsed into silence. Flynn turned to look out the window, watching the retreating backs of the thugs through the stand storm they were kicking up. The Canyonlands had opened up, giving the vehicles a wider berth than before. Rock strata walls zigzagged along next to them, rising out of the ground like mountains with the peaks severed off. In the distance, the plateaus leveled off and sandstone spires took their place. They looked hazy in the evening sun.

Flynn was too young to remember what life had been like before hellfire tore through the land. Some of the older Riders remembered and would tell the younger ones stories back at the Compound. They talked about how everything was green instead of brown and red. Sandstorms were not a common occurrence and snow actually fell in some places. People had structure, governments weren't as corrupt, people fought for their rights, there was justice and people had integrity. But not anymore, now it was survival of the fittest and a constant battle against the unrelenting elements and what was left of the human race.

Flynn sighed to himself and rubbed his eyes, propping his elbow against the window and resting his head against his first as he drove. It had been the longest week of his life.

He pressed the brake pedal as the thugs began to slow down. He wasn't sure what they were stopping for, until he realized that one of the spires was not actually rock. The eighteen wheeler rolled to a stop and he shifted it into park.

"I'll be goddamned," Flynn breathed as he gazed through the windshield.

The thugs had pulled to a stop in front of a massive pumpjack. He was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. Mouth agape, he opened the door and climbed out of the tanker, stepping closer towards the great machine. He watched as the cranks raised and lowered one end of the walking beam that pivoted over the A frame of the structure. It bobbed the head of the pump up and down mesmerizingly. Flynn put a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun as he watched the machine in motion.

"Welcome to the Tower."

Flynn looked back at the girl, who had to shout to be heard over the grinding of gears. She, and the rest of the burly men, were watching his reaction closely.

And then in dawned on Flynn; the tanker, the tunnel with the petroleum barrels, the booby trapped Canyonlands and the thugs.

"You've got an _unregistered oil pump_?" Flynn shouted and marched back towards the girl. Slit and Grinner moved to block his path and he stopped abruptly. He glared at her over their broad shoulders. "Do you know how _illegal_ that is? Do you know how much trouble you'll be in if anyone were to find out? You're pumping oil for your own use!"

"It's all very ironic getting a lecture on morals from a Rider," Rapunzel said, crossing her arms and feeling much more confident now that she had six ruffians backing her up. Flynn wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug look off her face. He clenched his hands into fists.

"This is different," he said through gritted teeth. "People need petroleum, others could benefit from this. If the Riders were to find out you had this you'd be dead."

"I told you we took drastic measures to survive," she replied evenly.

Flynn looked back at the metal horse that continued pumping, his mind swimming with more questions.

"I told you we shouldn't have lead him to the Tower," one of the men growled behind him. Flynn ignored his statement, trying to process everything he had learned about the girl in the last twelve hours.

"I told you I would tell you everything, and this is it," the girl spoke but her voice was gentler now. And louder. Flynn glanced over his shoulder to see she had moved from the protection of the thugs to stand behind him. "No more secrets…at least from me."

Flynn sighed. She was right; he had asked her to tell him everything and she had. He initially thought he was bringing along a scared, little mechanic, but in actuality she was so much more than that. What did it matter anyway? By this time tomorrow the Tower, the garage, the Canyonlands, would all be nothing but a memory. At the very least he knew what he was getting into by letting her tag along.

"We had a deal," she reminded him.

He sighed again, louder this time. He rubbed a hand across his face before finally giving an exasperated sigh. "Fine! I'll take you where you need to go," he consented.

Her face lit up with a smile. "Really?" she grinned.

"Don't push it," Flynn grumbled his reply.

She had held up her end of the bargain, now Flynn was going to hold up his. He may have been a Rider—former Rider—but he was still a man of his word. He took one last look at the pumpjack, as if to make sure it was still there. How Rapunzel and Gothel kept this pump a secret was a mystery to him. Her story was quickly unraveling and it was not at all what he had expected. He finally turned and nodded his head to the tanker, indicating to the girl to get in. She climbed up into the passenger side next to her dog and Flynn went to follow, but as he pulled open the door, someone grabbed him by the back of his leather jacket and spun him around.

"Listen here show pony," Slit growled, hunching over so his face was inches from Flynn's. "If anything happens to her, we'll know, and we'll know exactly who to come looking for."

Flynn glowered up at the man, who had raised his severed arm and waved his metal claw for a hand threateningly under Flynn's face.

"Nothing is going to happen to her," Flynn snapped, "But if you're so worried then you take her."

When the ruffian didn't reply, Flynn smirked.

"Alright then. If Gothel comes looking for her I imagine you know what to say."

With that, Flynn turned and yanked the door to the cab open and climbed in. He started up the ignition and glanced at the girl before putting the vehicle in gear. She had an odd look on her face, a mixture of calm composure and uncertainty. She avoided his gaze. Flynn knew he should ask what was wrong. He should offer her a chance to say what was troubling her thoughts but he didn't. He wasn't a man of sentiment and the girl had made her decision. The last thing he was going to do was act as her confidant. He jerked the gear shift back and put the tanker into drive.

"Say goodbye to your friends," Flynn muttered under his breath.

"Follow the rock ridge to the south," she replied, ignoring his comment. "There's a way out."

They drove in silence, Rapunzel wrestling with her conscious and Flynn trying to make sense of the events that underwent the past few days. Maximus dozed in the backseat, curled up with his nose in his tail. When they breached the southern pass out of the Canyonlands they turned and continued west, following the setting sun on the horizon. The bright light of evening burned red across the scorched earth, a few minutes of last brilliant sunlight before the sun sunk below the horizon.

Rapunzel leaned over and began fiddling with the radio on the dashboard to keep herself occupied. Flynn stared out the windshield, fighting off the exhaustion that had been tailing him for a week now.

"Give it a rest," he finally snapped. "It's nothing but white noise. That's what it's always been and that's what it always will be."

She didn't stop fiddling with the dial, much to his irritation.

"You never know," she murmured distractedly and Flynn rolled his eyes.

"Where are you heading anyway?" he asked, partly because she still hadn't told him their destination but mostly because he wanted her to stop messing with the radio.

It seemed to work, because she hit the power button and twisted in her seat. She reached into the back seat and pulled the duffle bag out from the undercarriage. She rifled through it a bit before finding what she was looking for and zipping it closed again. She face forward and presented Flynn with a piece of paper.

He scowled and took it. It looked to be some sort of picture or newspaper clipping, he wasn't sure. There were creases across the page from where it had been folded and unfolded multiple times. The lines were crisp, and though the picture was faded and worn around the edges, he could tell that it had been cared for.

It was a picture of a city, all lit up and dazzling in the light. The buildings looked new, made with shining steel instead of stone or wood or rustled metal. The window panes had glass in them and the skyscrapers looked sturdy instead of the crumbling buildings Flynn was used to seeing. The city was refreshingly free of sand and dust. It looked clean and new and nothing like he had ever seen before. The wording on it read _Corona, City of Lights_ in dark cursive lettering.

Flynn frowned and glanced at Rapunzel, who was watching him eagerly.

"It's propaganda Rapunzel," he said, noting that this was the first time he had used her actual name. "It's a fallacy, an advertisement, it's nothing but garbage."

He refolded the picture and tossed it into the back seat. She lunged back and snatched it up, opening it up to look at it again.

"It's not," she said gently as her eyes flickered over the picture. "A few years ago an old man came though the shop for a tune up. Gothel fixed him a drink while I worked on his car. I found this picture in the glovebox and took it into the bar to ask him about it. He was piss poor drunk and started rambling about the City of Lights and how he was headed there. He said that people had formed a community and built towers, actual towers, and there was plenty of clean, running water and electricity…he said it was somewhere along the west coast, sitting right against the ocean."

Flynn barked a laugh. "Ha!"

The noise startled Maximus awake. The koolie sat up quickly, ears perked with curiosity.

"Listen to yourself! It's all made up by some poor, old bloke who didn't want to accept the fact that _this_ is reality, _this_ is your life now," the more he spoke the angrier he got, which shouldn't have surprised him. He seemed to feel angry all the time. But this picture, this _City of Lights_ , was nothing but a joke and he couldn't believe she actually fell for it. There was no such thing as a community like that. Everything was on the brink of extinction, including people, and it was better to face the fact than try and kid yourself into believing otherwise. "This man lived a delusion," Flynn continued, "Everything is dying or dead and we're just waiting our turn."

"Do you really believe that?"

Flynn looked at her in the dimming light. The sun had set and the sky had faded to a black purple. A few more minutes and they would be bathed in darkness under the cover of a starry night sky. She looked dejected but Flynn didn't care. She needed to know the truth.

"Of course," he replied, "There's nothing left in this _fucking_ _wasteland_ so get used to it."

His voice was harsh and she fell silent, curling up on her seat. The conversation was not forgotten, but she wasn't going to argue her case further to someone who refused to listen. Gothel had been the same way when she suggested they escape to the city. She had scoffed and told Rapunzel that she was being demented; there was no such place. The world was dark and selfish and cruel. She had tried a few other times to bring up the city, but each time Gothel snapped at her to get her head out of the clouds and start facing reality. She never did though, she always clung to the hope that a place like Corona existed, and one day she would reach it. Rapunzel pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her had against the window. She gazed at the picture one last time, promising herself she would make it to that city, before folding it up and tucking it into the pocket of her blue coveralls. A tired sigh escaped her lips and she closed her eyes, letting the vibrating cab of the eighteen wheeler rock her to sleep.

 **Authors Note**

 **Well, well, well, another chapter down. I know this was a massive information dump and not very exciting, but next chapter Pascal officially makes an entrance. I'm curious how you guys think I'll bring in his character to this AU? Very excited to write him.**

 **As always, please leave a review. The more I write this story the happier I am that I didn't leave it as a one shot. Nevertheless I could really use your support so please, a penny for your thoughts? Thanks everyone.**


	4. Nightmare and Bait

**Nightmare and Bait**

He continued driving long after the sun had set and the black blanket of night hung heavy in the sky. The moon was barely a sliver and so the majority of visibility came from the floodlights mounted on the cabin roof of the tanker. Rapunzel slept soundly, curled up in the passenger seat with her cheek resting against the glass. The merle dog was sleeping too, lounged across the bench seat in the back. In the dark of the cabin, and under the canopy of stars, Flynn struggled to stay awake, his eyes feeling like burning coals as he evaded sleep.

He knew he didn't have to keep driving. The rock slide crushed the Brothers. They were no longer tailing him and he didn't have to run anymore. He didn't need to check the rear view mirror every few hours to make sure he was in the clear, though he did anyway. Whether it was out of habit or paranoia, he wasn't sure. He could pull over and rest and but even as those thoughts crossed his mind, he struggled to move his foot from the gas pedal to the brake. He had been driving sleepless days and nights for the past week. The idea that he was now safe just seemed too alien to him.

He glanced at the girl. His anger with her had dissipated…for the time being at least. She was much less irritating when she was asleep. He didn't mean to lose his temper with her like he found himself doing so often. He just didn't understand how someone could have so much faith in the world. Especially someone who had seen their fair share of hardship. She should know like the rest of the world that mankind was fraying at the edges, and yet she talked like there was still good in it.

Not to mention, the last time Flynn came into favorable contact with another human being other than the Riders, was never. He was usually too busy shouting, robbing, shooting, and making a getaway to exchange friendly greetings. And people tended to avoid eye contact when they saw the brand mark on his neck, despite whether or not he was on a raid. His social skills were barbarian at beast.

At the thought of the Compound and the Riders, he absent mindedly reached back and ran his fingers over the insignia burned on his neck. He quickly banished the dark thoughts that were seeping through the cracks in his memories before they grew too absolute. Now was not the time to dwell on that. He was free now. He quickly removed his hand from his neck and placed it firmly on the steering wheel, as if to keep his thoughts on the same, safe, straight road he guided the trucker down.

Finally, Flynn couldn't fight sleep anymore and pulled off the shoulder. The eighteen wheeler rumbled off onto uneven ground and the motion woke the mechanic.

She sat up groggily and rubbed at her face.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice husky from sleep.

"We're pulling over," Flynn murmured. A few meters off the road he shifted the tanker into park and shut off the engine.

He reached around into the back and grabbed the knapsack up, fishing out the torch from it that Rapunzel and stored after they climbed out of the tunnel. He put the keys in the sack, opened his door and jumped out. He flicked on the light and shone the beam across the desert.

Tired, the girl remained in the cabin with Maximus, watching as Flynn walked around the truck, searching. The night was so dense that she could hardly make out his figure, just the light emanating from the torch. Her eyes followed the light as it flickered about, pausing when Flynn stopped to peel the bark off a dying bloodwood tree. Realizing what he intended to do, Rapunzel grabbed up the knapsack and duffle bag, whistled for Maximus to follow, and climbed out of the tanker.

She set the bags in the sand and searched for the box of matches she packed months ago. Maximus, happy to be out of the vehicle, barked loudly and bounded off into the dark, probably to chase a rabbit or something. When Flynn returned with an armful of dry wood, Rapunzel handed the matches over to him. While he started on a fire, she pulled out blankets and a packet of dried mango. It wasn't much, but it was something.

They settled down around the small fire, eating in silence. Flynn reached for the duffle bag to see what sort of supplies the girl had packed. There wasn't much; an extra pair of boots, gauze, dry food, 9 mm bullets but no gun (Flynn had a sneaking suspicion there was a gun concealed somewhere in the trucks cabin), water canteen, matches, flare and an iron skillet. He wasn't sure how much use they would get out of a frying pan but he didn't say anything. It was late and he was too exhausted to fight with her. He put everything back and tossed the duffle aside.

Rapunzel unfolded her blanket and shuffled around on the ground, trying to get comfortable on the hard earth. She offered Flynn a blanket. He tore his gaze from the fire, long enough to glance at her and take the offering. She curled up again, just as Maximus returned, panting and covered in dust. He trotted out of the darkness and over the blonde and laid down at her feet. Within a few minutes they were asleep.

Feeling the weight of sleep too, Flynn laid down the blanket and stretched out on it. He watched the fire for a few minutes, but it wasn't long before he was in a fitful rest too.

As he slept, images plagued his mind; raiding a caravan of travelers, living in the Compound, riding through a deserted town, the orphanage. Screaming and crying echoed through his head. The faces of his victims flashed through his dreams, so did the sneering Brothers.

 _He was back on the road driving his beloved Mustang again. There were heavy, grey clouds in the sky, such like Flynn had never seen before. They sat low and the threat of rain loomed close. He was driving over rocky ground, but it didn't feel right. It was too choppy and rough. The suspension in his car hardly muffled the jarring ruts. He gazed out the windshield to try and figure out what was causing his rough ride. Bodies. Bodies strewn all over the road. And he drove right over them. He tried to hit the brake, but they didn't work. He tried to maneuver around them, but there were too many. He felt like he was doing to be sick. The sky opened up with a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning and suddenly it was pouring rain. The loud hiss of raindrops against the hood, the sound of rubber tires over flesh, his own heart pounding in his ears…it was all deafening to Flynn. But above it all, he could hear their voices, shrill, desperate and crying._

 _"Flynn! Save us! Save us Flynn!"_

He screamed to try and block out the sounds, but it only made it worse.

 _"Flynn! Look what you've done! Help us! Save us Flynn! Flynn!"_

The voices blended until they belonged to just one person.

"Flynn!"

Rapunzel shook his shoulder until he startled awake. His brown eyes flew open, wide, frightened and bright with adrenaline. He scrambled to his feet, drawing his sawed off shotgun from its holster on his thigh. With his other hand, and the rest of his body, he flung himself at the girl and wrestled her to the ground. His forearm pressed against her chest, pinning her shoulders to the ground. He straddled her, knees on either side of her hips, with his full weight resting on her body. He jammed the barrel of his shotgun under her jaw.

She gasped, and clawed at his restraining arm.

" _Flynn!_ " she breathed hoarsely, the wind having been knocked out of her when he threw her to the ground. " _Flynn, it's me!_ "

She tried to shove him off her, but he was easily fifty or so pounds heavier than she. Her nails dug into the skin on his arm and wrist, desperate and terrified that he was going to pull the trigger. One of her hands released her grip on his arm and skittered over the sand, desperately searching for something to help her. Her fingers brushed the mesh fabric of the duffle bag. She reached in and grabbed at the contents, straining to grasp something, _anything._ She felt the cold handle of the frying pan. She grasped it, and with what was left of her strength, she swung it as hard as she could.

It cracked against Flynn's skull and the force knocked his balance off. He cried out and folded over into the sand, rolling off Rapunzel. She scrambled to her feet, grasping the handle with both hands and brandishing the frying pan towards him, prepared for a fight. Her chest heaved as she took deep breaths, trying to fill her depleted lungs.

He groaned in pain and rolled over, holding his head between his hands and managing to sit up on his knees. The shotgun was discarded at his feet.

"Mother _fucker_ ," he hissed. His vision was blinded with stars and the pain in his head was excruciating.

Flynn growled, willing the sharp pain in his temple to subside. It was then that he realized that his hands were shaking. That, and at some point in the night he had broken out in a cold sweat. His whole body felt damp. He pressed his palms against his head, as if trying to squeeze the pain out, doubling over himself to try and regain some control.

"You…you were having a nightmare," she said, voice raw.

He looked up and over at her. She was looking at him with those wide, beautiful eyes of hers. They looked scared. She still held the frying pan aloft, arming herself against Flynn's sudden, violet outburst. It followed him as he slowly got to his feet, staggering slightly. He removed his hands from his head, but they still quivered as they dropped to his side. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, making his heart flutter. He took a steadying breath. The hit to the head managed to clear the fog of his nightmare, but he still felt the daze from the prospect of almost shooting the mechanics brains out, and from being hit in the head by an iron _frying pan_.

He eyed her makeshift weapon, weary that she was going to come after him again with it, before bending over, picking up his gun, and sheathing it into its holster. Once she was certain she was safe again, she lowered the skillet.

He reached up and wiped his dewey forehead "I'm sorry," he mumbled. He hated that she had seen him like that; ruthless and vulnerable. He also hated himself for apologizing. She shouldn't have woken him. She should have just let him suffer through the nightmare and pay a bit of much deserved retribution. But she was too kind. She couldn't sit back and watch him be miserable.

"It's okay," was her quiet reply. Something flickered across her face and Flynn recognized it instantly. It was pity. He didn't receive that look often, and it made him uncomfortable.

He turned away from her. The nightmare was no new trick for him. He had been dreaming like that for years and yet his nightmares always seemed to rattle him. He shook off the feeling of the dream and instead turned to the east. The sky was light blue, ribbons of pink and yellow laying above the horizon. Just a few hours before sunrise.

In the early morning haze, Rapunzel packed up the few things she had brought, hesitant to repack the frying pan, while Flynn stomped out the hot coals from the night before. The smoke billowed up from what was left of the charred wood. They threw the gear into the tanker, called for the dog, buckled their seatbelts and started up the engine. They were back on the road by daybreak.

They continued westward as planned. The desert landscape blurred by, interrupted only by sage, a few desert trees, and a small herd of camels led by the bull. The shadows of the humped mamals stretched along the sand as the sun rose higher in the sky. The cool morning air vaporized and soon the sweltering heat began stifling the cabin. Flynn watched the camels as they meandered across the dunes, rolling down his window to let some air (and subsequently dust) in. Rapunzel did the same.

It was an hour or so later when Flynn noticed it.

Almost black against the bright sunlight, it was a skyline of buildings on the horizon.

The ruins of an old city.

Rapunzel noticed it just as he did.

"Do you suppose there's people there?" she asked.

Her voice seemed uncertain, and was an octave higher than normal. Flynn glanced at her. Her brows were pinched together slightly and she seemed hesitant.

She had given Flynn a similar look back at the shop, before they had made an alliance. It was fear. He recalled what she said about Gothel, how the woman used to tell her stories about the people and things that existed outside their garage and the Canyonlands. Not that it wasn't true, nowadays Flynn couldn't tell the difference between who had his back and who was stabbing it. Typically it was the latter. People were dangerous and lawless and they had to be careful. But Rapunzel wasn't just wary, she was scared. Now that she was away from the closest thing she had come to call a home, and away from the ruffians she called friends, she had lost all confidence Flynn had seen before. She had no clue what lay ahead in the crumbling city. At least _he_ had an _idea_. She was completely in the dark, having never known what life was like outside the shop.

The things going through her mind, Flynn would never know.

As they cruised towards the city, Flynn knew they had to be cautious. He may have had a better sense of what they were likely to find among the sun scorched buildings, but he wasn't stupid and he wasn't hopeful. It was likely as barren and abandoned as it looked, but if there were people, there was no telling if they were friendly or not.

He glanced at the girl. She sat ridged in her seat, eyes wide and staring straight ahead. Whatever Gothel had told her, had stuck. He felt a flicker of sympathy. She had been so cut off from the rest of the world at that garage, and at first he had thought she should count herself lucky. But now he saw how damaging it had been for her. She was completely unprepared.

He was a loner. Both by choice and as an occupational hazard from being a Rider. But Rapunzel was lonely whether she meant to be or not.

He shook off the feeling quickly. Right now he had to focus on what they were driving into.

They cruised towards the city along the same main road they had been following since that morning. Street signs and a few old billboards began to appear the closer they got. Most of them had chipped paint, or where dented and dotted with bullet holes from being used as target practice at one point in time. Old advertisements fluttered in the wind, the vinyl ripped from years and years of harsh dry wind. Flynn glanced up as they crossed under the shadow of one. The road lead them straight into the heart of the city.

At first it was just a few shops, gas stations, hotels— all abandoned and out of business since before Flynn was born. Then there were more street signs, stop lights, sidewalks and so forth. They passed a library and what looked like the remains of a school. Apartment buildings, offices and more stores. Each building looked as sad and dismal as the last. Windows were boarded up, and the ones that weren't had been busted in by looters. Skyscrapers were half destroyed, a mixture of scaffolding and concrete, and none the less eerie as they cast long shadows over the ruins of the destroyed city. Abandoned cars sat unmoving in the middle of the road, and Flynn maneuvered around them slowly. Rust consumed most everything and sagebrush grew between cracks in the asphalt.

Flynn's hard gaze flickered back and forth as he drove slowly, looking for any sign of civilization. Rapunzel looked too, though more out paranoia than anything else.

Maximus, seeming to sense his owner was on edge, sat obediently in the back, ears perked forward attentively. His black nose wiggled back and forth, searching for strange scents.

Movement out of the corner of Flynn's eye caused him to hit the brake. His heel dug into the pedal and the eighteen wheeler slowed considerably. He let out a surprised and angered, "Christ!" as the wheels squealed against the brakes and he almost hit what had darted out in front of them.

Something, or rather, _someone,_ had appeared from inside one of the buildings and whisked past the tanker, just inches from being hit by the grill. Flynn saw the child and managed to stop before he made roadkill of him. He was small and nimble, and Flynn could have sworn he saw something green as the child, who couldn't have been more than nine or ten years old, disappeared down a narrow alley on the other side of the road. It all happened so fast, Flynn would have thought he had imagined it, if it wasn't for the _giggling_ coming from the kid as he passed in front of the tanker. The noise, high pitched and echoing through the empty street, sounded like wind chimes over the rumbling of the engine.

The hair on Flynn's arm rose.

He snapped the gear shift to park and took his foot off the pedal. The familiar whooshing of compressed air being released from the hydraulic brake valves sounded as the vehicle rested back on its tires. Flynn settled back in his seat and glanced around, looking for the kid.

Rapunzel seemed just as shocked as he was.

"What on earth—?" she started, but the rest of the words were lost to her. He glanced at her. She was leaned forwards, neck craned out to try and see down the narrow alley the boy had disappeared down.

Flynn pursed his lips and scanned the area but couldn't see sign of the little boy.

"Where do you think he went?" Rapunzel asked in a quiet voice.

Flynn wasn't sure. He was more concerned as to why a child was alone in a deserted city and running in front of strange trucks that could crush him under eighty thousand pounds of welded metal and raging attitude.

Then he heard the giggling again. Quieter this time, but no less unsettling.

Flynn looked forward and the mechanic did the same.

A few yards up the road stood the little boy, standing in the middle of the road and looking at them.

Flynn squinted through the brilliant sunlight. He was right, he had seen green.

The little boy was skinny, knock kneed, and dark skinned. Even from the distance, Flynn could see his dry, cracked lips and bony shoulders underneath the dirty shirt he wore. He was barefoot, hands clasped behind his back and covered in dust. His eyes were bright and on the top of his head, where a mop of dark curls should have been, was the most brilliant green color Flynn had ever seen. It was the color of grass; a deep, forest green color.

The passenger door opened and Flynn's incredulous gaze shot to Rapunzel as she climbed out of the cabin.

 _What the hell was she doing?_

Flynn quickly unclicked his seatbelt and yanked opened his own door.

"Rapunzel wait!" he called as his boots thumped into the sand and he went after her.

She ignored him as she walked towards the little boy, calling out, "Are you okay?" and when he didn't reply, she tried, "What's your name?"

The boy still didn't speak, and remained standing where he was, just watching as the two approached him.

In a few lengthy strides, Flynn had caught up to her. He grabbed her around the triceps before she could get any closer to the boy and pulled her back towards him.

"Rapunzel, _wait_ ," he said again as he spun her to face him, this time his voice much harsher and more commanding than before. "Something isn't right." He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the whole situation didn't add up.

She hesitated, searching his face a moment before saying, "He's just a _boy_ Flynn. What's the worst that could happen?"

 _Plently._

He wanted to voice his thoughts, but he also considered that the girl was right. He glanced up at the young kid again. He was scrawny and watched patiently from where he stood. He sniffed, reached up, and ran his wrist under his nose before folding it behind his back again. His presence didn't exactly scream threat, but that didn't mean he could be trusted.

Flynn had been about his age when he was taken by the Riders, this kid was certainly old enough to cause trouble for them.

When he didn't reply, Rapunzel pulled out of his grasp and walked closer to the boy.

" _Rapunzel_ ," Flynn hissed though clenched teeth, his eyes darting left and right to the buildings that rose up on either side of them. He still wasn't convinced.

"Are you lost?" she called.

This time, a reply came, but not from the boy.

It was in the form of a canister that came whizzing through the air towards them, like an answer from the abandoned rooftops. The _clunk, clunk, clunk_ of the can against the ground caused Rapunzel and Flynn to watch as it rolled towards their feet. Rapunzel squinted down at the thing, trying figure out what exactly it was, but there was no sort of inscription on the can. Flynn turned his attention back to the boy, not eager to take his eyes off the nameless child for longer than he had to. He watched, eyes narrowed, as the boy produced a gas mask that he had been holding behind his back. He slipped it over his face and tightened the straps around his head, looking more like wide eyed insect than an actual human being.

The canister clicked, gas began pouring from the nozzle and suddenly everything made sense.

"Rapunzel!"

Flynn didn't mean for his voice to sound so desperate as it came out, but it did. He reached for her, and she him, as he moved to kick the canister out of range. But the damage was already done. The gas burned Flynn's nose and esophagus as it went down. A buzzing sensation filled his senses, and he wasn't sure if his ears were ringing or if his head was pounding or both. Either way he felt strange, and when two other canisters came flying at them, he could barely focus as they poured out more gas.

He reached for his bandana, somehow managing to untie it from his neck, before handing it over to Rapunzel, who was doubled over coughing. She took it and placed it over her mouth and nose. Flynn tried to gauge a way out of the cloud of toxic smoke, but the gas was so thick he couldn't see and his sense were muddled from the poison in the air. He coughed, tried to say Rapunzel's name, and coughed some more.

He felt dizzy and weak. A step forward resulted in a crashing fall to the ground. He willed himself to get up, but his muscles felt like they had turned to lead. Laying in the hot dust, he could hear faint, hysteric barking and Rapunzel calling out his name. A face appeared from the cloud of gas swimming around them; a wide eyed insect from the fog, then another and another. They were surrounded by dark figures in gas masks.

Flynn couldn't fight it off any longer. With his body buzzing and senses burning, the world around him became unfocused and blackness closed in around him.

 **Authors Note**

 **Greetings readers! Hope this chapter finds you well. Say hello to the newest character, Pascal (though he is not mentioned by name here). How do you like his character written as a little boy rather than a chameleon** **? I'm very excited to write him, he is going to be such a fun character to work with. If you enjoyed this chapter, please review and let me know. Constructive criticisms is always welcome too.**


	5. An Uncertain Predicament

**An Uncertain Predicament**

Unlike Flynn, Rapunzel had very few regrets in her life.

Leaving the garage though? That one took the cake.

And being strung upside down by her feet, tied back to back with a knocked out Flynn, in a dark room, gave her plenty of time to think about the mistake she had made.

She was so _stupid_ to think that life outside the garage would be better. All her life she had sat in her room, which was a single bed over the shop where her and Gothel stayed, and looked out the grimy window at the horizon just dreaming of a life beyond. Day after day, reading books, fixing cars, baking, paint jobs, trips to the Tower, and cleaning had become so monotonous that she passed the time day dreaming about breaking free and actually living her life, not just existing in it.

Gothel had been right the whole the time. There was nothing for Rapunzel outside of their homestead. Nothing, except trouble. Why did she ever strike a deal with the Rider? Why did she think she could leave Gothel? It was an impulsive decision built on years of boredom and a hope that there was something more for her. This, being tied up and waiting in agonized silence for something to happen, was not part of her dream at all.

She closed her eyes against the thought. She wasn't sure how long she had been passed out, but it was long enough for the gas masks to drag her and Flynn away and tie them up. Her blonde hair hung in a curtain below her, and a bitter taste coated her tongue. Her face felt swollen from the steady ascension of blood to her head. She half hoped that she would pass out again, just to stop the guilty thoughts going through her mind.

 _Stupid, stupid girl!_

She closed her eyes tighter to try and stop the tears from coming. Corona or not, she should have stayed where she was. She wasn't ready for this adventure. She wasn't ready for this lawless world. She couldn't even fight Flynn when he threaten to shoot her the night before. How did she expect to defend herself when real trouble came her way? Gothel's words rang in her head like a loud church bell calling the sinners: _gullible, naive, immature, clumsy_ …She had succumbed to a silly notion that life could be better for her. But it wasn't. If she had just remained at the shop, under the protective care of her mother, then maybe she wouldn't be in this predicament.

The tears came despite her best efforts. They slid silently down her temples, running into her hair and disappearing there.

Behind her, she heard Flynn groan and strain against the cords that bound his wrists.

She waited for him to get his bearings, fully preparing herself for the shock he would receive when he woke to find himself strung up by his feet in an unfamiliar place. Flynn being, well, Flynn, the shock would likely come in the form of aggression. She had the same frightful experience just moments before but it came to her in the form of tears.

The first thing Flynn was aware of as he came too, was the terrible taste in his mouth. That, and the pressure in his head from hanging upside down. Then it was the constricting rope around his wrists and ankles, then he became acutely aware of the fact that someone was tied to him. He didn't have to be a genius to figure out who it was.

He groaned, feeling achy and sluggish as the gas he inhaled finally left his system.

"Flynn?" she asked gently.

"I'm here," he replied, voice scratchy and deep.

He looked around the room they were in. It was dimly lit, the only light coming from a single bare lightbulb, and empty with concrete walls and floors. He raised his head, or lowered, he wasn't really sure in his current position which, to look up at what they were attached to. The wire, wound around their boots, was looped through some bare pipes that crisscrossed the celling then attached to some sort of hook in the far corner of the room. The pipes were old and rusted, perhaps if they put enough pressure on them, the pipes would break and they could make their escape. Flynn looked to his thigh. The holster was still there, but his double barrel shotgun was gone. His leather jacket was missing, which meant they probably found the switchblade concealed in the pocket. He strained against the binds on their wrists.

"Ouch!" Rapunzel hissed as the ropes tightened and pinched her skin. She would glare at him, if she could.

Flynn let out a frustrated grunt.

"How are we going to get out of here?" Rapunzel asked.

"I don't know."

"They're going to kill us, aren't they?"

" _I don't know_."

Flynn scanned the room again. He had to be missing something, there had to be a way out. There was always a way out. At the very least there had to be a way to get them down. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hang like this.

"You know, I used to dream about having an adventure," Rapunzel said suddenly, quietly. "I envied people who could come and go as they pleased. We got so many travelers that would come to the shop and I used to listen to the stories they would tell, wishing it was me instead of them."

"Ever heard the expression 'careful what you wish for?'" Flynn muttered, annoyed. He needed to concentrate and figure out a plan of escape.

Rapunzel snorted. "So being strung up like a pig carcass serves me right?" she snapped, her voice harsh. She sniffed and Flynn stopped calculating escapes long enough to know that she had been crying.

A few seconds of silence ticked between them.

"That's not what I meant," Flynn replied. His voice was softer, more attentive.

"I suppose it does serve me right," Rapunzel sighed. "I never should have left home. I was stupid for thinking I could do this. I just thought, when you came to the garage and needed my help, that maybe my luck had turned. I found someone willing to drive me out of that place, and I thought it would be easy to say goodbye. And now I've gone and gotten us in this tangled up mess…I'm so sorry Flynn."

Flynn stared at the concrete wall in front of him, trying to put into words what he was thinking.

"Listen," he said slowly, carefully, "I admire your hope. You're brave for following your dreams like you have. Me? I ran because I was a coward. I was afraid of what I had become, what I had done. I left because I was selfish and scared for when judgement day came. But you left in search of something better. You left because you knew there was something out there worth holding onto. And…and I don't know, that sounds like courage to me."

Flynn waited a moment but Rapunzel said nothing.

"Besides, I can think of worse ways to go," he added.

He heard a quiet, strangled chuckle escape her lips and he smiled halfheartedly at the wall.

He told himself that he was only consoling the girl because he needed two sharp minds to get them out of wherever the hell they were. They couldn't make their escape if she was in hysterics, crying over herself with guilt. But deep down he knew he was feeling something he hadn't felt in a very long time; mercy…compassion. The thought made him cringe inwardly. He was going soft. But this wasn't her fault and she needed to know that, especially if they were in their last moments. He had never met someone filled with so much goodness in them; someone as kind as her should never have to feel the sting of regret. He knew what that was like, and he wasn't about to let her feel the same way he had been feeling for the last sixteen years of his life.

"I don't think you're a coward," Rapunzel said after a few minutes.

"Well, that makes one of us," he replied.

Flynn heard footsteps just outside the room they were in. The conversation dissolved and apprehension settled in, both falling silent and straining to hear. They waited, listening as the footsteps drew closer, paused, then the grinding of gears as a lock was turned. The door was rolled opened, like a garage, and Flynn was quick to realize that they must have been tied up in some sort of warehouse or storage unit.

Bright light poured in, illuminated the room and making Flynn's already sensitive head drum painfully. He shut his eyes against the brilliance, until he heard the door roll down again. When he gazed through the dimness at who had entered, his blood boiled.

"You!"

Flynn growled the word with so much spite it was almost indistinct.

The young boy with green hair who had stopped their tanker stood a few feet from them. He regarded them easily, stepping further under the light of the bare bulbs that hung from the ceiling.

"Oh good, you're awake," he said, and it sounded oddly chipper.

Flynn glowered at the small menace, who was wearing a leather jacket easily twice his size.

"That's my jacket!" Flynn snapped. "I want it back!"

"Come get it then," the boy said cheekily.

Flynn was not above trying. He jerked against his restraints towards the boy, but only swung feebly in his attempt. He and Rapunzel swayed back and forth, the little boy letting out that giggle that made Flynn's skin crawl.

"Where's my dog?" Rapunzel asked, her voice shrill and desperate. The boy moved around to look at her, smiling.

"Oh the dog is fine. We had to muzzle him and drag him from the truck 'cause he kept trying to bite us. He's locked up a few units down from here."

"I want him back!"

He shrugged in response.

"You little bastard, you tricked us!" Flynn snarled.

"Yes, and you fell for it," he replied with a light cackle at their expense. "To be honest I didn't think it would be so easy but you were more than willing to leave the safety of your truck. I guess I should be thanking you. Usually they make me climb up the water tower and cry for help, but somehow you managed to escape our lookout and we didn't have time to set the trap. So we grabbed a few smoke grenades and worked with what little time we had."

The anger that simmered in Flynn was seconds from boiling over. He didn't tolerate being made a fool, especially from a _child_. And the fact that his hands were bound so he wasn't be able to slap that smug look off the boy's face made it that much worse.

"Listen you," he snapped and the boy mockingly turned his head and cupped his ear to Flynn, "I want to talk to whoever's in charge."

"Oh? You have a complaint?"

"About you!"

"Sorry, the bureau is closed."

The boy turned and walked towards the door. He grabbed the handle, pulled it up just enough for him to slip under and disappeared.

"Wait, come back!" Flynn called but the boy had already shut the rolling door again.

He let out a frustrated growl.

"Now what?" Rapunzel asked quietly after a few seconds.

Flynn closed his eyes against her words, trying to think. At the very least, they were still alive, which meant that whoever had captured them likely wanted information. If they wanted to kill them, the masked people would have done so when they were out cold. Of course, there was always the chance that whoever had done this to them preferred their victims alive before slicing and dicing, so perhaps relief that they were still breathing was a bit premature. Flynn was heavily banking on the former option though.

The _click, click, click_ of the pulley system above them echoed around the unit they were in as the door was lifted up again. Flynn squinted into the sunlight pouring in and made out three figures, one clearly smaller than the other two. The boy had returned with two adults. The door was closed and they stepped into the light.

Flynn's eyes flickered over the two new faces. One was an older woman, perhaps early to mid forties, with dark skin that looked black against the low light and long hair that hung in roped dreadlocks. She surveyed them with black eyes, lips pressed into a firm line. In her hands, pointed at their heads, was a carbine.

The second figure was taller, completely bald, with a physic that reminded Flynn of Slit and the other ruffians back at the Canyonlands. He resembled more a mountain than a man. He looked not much older than Flynn but it was hard to tell because every inch of him was covered in a skeleton tattoo. His lips were inked to look like teeth, his eyes blacked out like eye sockets, his arms were tattooed with a humerus, radius and ulna and his hands were intricately designed to represent each bone in his fingers. The rest of the tattoo was lost under his clothing. He carried a similar looking weapon as the woman.

Flynn hesitated, suddenly less sure of himself than when it had just been him, Rapunzel and the green haired boy.

"What's your name?" the woman spoke.

"What's yours?" came Flynn's quick and tense reply. He was thankful that Rapunzel had enough sense to keep quiet and let him do the talking.

The woman narrowed her gaze. "I'm not playing this game with you, _Rider_. Don't forget who holds the guns and who's tied up."

Flynn glared right back at the woman. He wasn't going to talk first. He had a sneaking suspicion that once they were finished asking questions, he and Rapunzel wouldn't be alive for much longer. The longer he withheld whatever information they were trying to get out of him, the longer they lived.

The woman twitched her head their direction and the man covered in the skeleton tattoo stepped forward. He turned the carbine over in his hand and held it by the barrel, swinging in around like a baton until the butt of the gun rammed into Flynn's stomach. His body seized forward as his midsection cramped painfully against the blow. He let out a wheezing hiss of pain, clenching his teeth to avoid giving them the satisfaction of hearing just how much the blow hurt.

"It's Flynn!"

It was Rapunzel who spoke. Her voice cracked with desperation, eyes wide with fear as she watched the woman, the boy, and the tattooed man turn their attention on her. Her heart pounded quickly and her breath came out in short, frightened huffs. She wasn't sure what she was doing, but anything was better than hanging there while they beat on Flynn.

"It's Flynn," she said again, softer this time, "And mine's Rapunzel."

" _Rapunzel_ ," Flynn wheezed, stomach still hurting. " _Shut up_."

"And what are you doing in our city?" the woman asked, ignoring Flynn and moving until she was standing in front of the girl.

Rapunzel's eyes flickered to the gun barrel that was now dangerously close to her face. She looked back at the woman, expression twisted in desperate pleading.

"Please," she said, "We're travelers, that's all. We were just passing through, trying to get to the coast. We didn't know anyone was here…"

The woman frowned.

"Travelers you say?" she asked and Rapunzel nodded. "Interesting ride for a couple of drifters. We took the tanker apart while you two were out cold. Concealed knife in the gear shift…Flame throwers installed below the tail lights…caltrop strips…bullet proof windows…look out turret off the back of the tank…spike hubcaps…cow catcher…no to mention the weapon stash hidden under the back seat…seems like more of a war rig than a petroleum tanker. Why would travelers like you want to be sitting on 2000 horse powers of nitro boosted war machine?"

Flynn was incredulous for a number of reasons as he listened to the woman talk. The first being that he had already spent two days in that eighteen wheeler and not once had he thought to check for hidden weapons, let alone _flame throwers_. He knew the truck had been modified, that much was obvious, but he had no idea what it was capable of. He was usually sharper, or rather, more paranoid. He was trained to look for dangers like that, so why had he missed them? The second thing that puzzled him, was that the girl had numerous chances to pull a knife or gun on him and yet she hadn't. There was a chance she was too scared to, she was small and skinny and it wouldn't take much for him to overpower her. But if she caught him unaware then maybe she would have a chance. She also couldn't drive, but she technically had the knowledge to. If she was desperate enough, she could figure it out. So there was really no reason to keep him alive. But still…why hadn't she attacked him when she had the chance?

Flynn, still reeling from being whacked in the stomach with the carbine, coughed out a reply, "It's technically not our ride. We stole it," he said, vowing to confront Rapunzel later about why she never mentioned the numerous weapons hidden in the tanker. That is, if they were still alive.

The woman all but ignored him. She gazed at the mechanic evenly.

"Is that true?"

Flynn felt Rapunzel nod her head.

"We're just trying to get to Corona," she said softly. "If you let us go and resupply then we'll be on our way. We never meant any harm."

The woman looked at her younger companion. He scowled at her, the tattooed teeth over his lips twisting with uncertainty. She gave a half shrug back in silent communication. She sighed and turned back to Rapunzel.

"I'll have you know we're not a lawless people," she said slowly, "But you can't blame us for being careful."

Again Rapunzel nodded, holding her breath and allowing a glimmer of hope that maybe they would let them go. Flynn realize that the only information they were looking for, was the same information he was looking for; assurance that the strangers weren't hostile. They were wondering the same questions he was.

The woman moved again, the heel of her boots echoing around the concrete walls until she was in Flynn's line of vision again. She bent over, until her face was at his level.

"We've also managed to keep off the Riders radar for years," she added slowly, a warning in her tone.

"I'm not with them anymore," Flynn growled. "That's why we're here. I made an escape back east about a week ago. I picked up the girl two days ago. Like she said, we're just trying to get to the coast."

The woman looked at the man again.

"This city has remained in a state of peace since the war, and we will continue to be so, understand?" she said, voice harsh, "Order and structure is what separates us from the barbarians consumed by the wasteland. We don't want any trouble."

"You have our word," Rapunzel said.

"Good," the woman replied, "As long as we have an understanding, you're welcome to stay."

They both nodded understandingly.

She looked to the green haired boy. He walked over to the far corner of the room, kneeling down and tugging on something. There was a snap, and the hissing of wire as it zipped through the pipes above them. One second they were strung up by their feet, and the next they were free falling. Flynn had just enough time to react before he came in contact with the concrete floor face first. He twisted his body to land on his side, pain blossoming over his shoulder and hip from the hard fall. He heard Rapunzel let out a soft grunt, and he glanced at her. She had fallen on her back, landing on her hands that were still bound behind her. She rolled over and sat up. Flynn staggered to his feet with awkward movements, due in part because he head was spinning from suddenly being right side up, and because he had lost count on how many body parts were aching and sore. He stumbled a bit before straightening and looking at the woman, challenging her.

The tattooed man stepped closer to Rapunzel and pulled out a switchblade from the waistband of his pants. He flicked open the knife and cut through the cords restraining her. She stood up and rubbed at her wrists absently, sliding closer to Flynn. The man tossed the blade to the black woman, who caught it easily. She looped her arm through the leather strap of the carbine and rested the gun on her shoulder to free her hands. She indicated with the blade for Flynn to turn around.

He hesitated. He still wasn't convinced. Something wasn't right. These people weren't just going to let them walk away. There was a catch.

There's _always_ a catch.

Slowly, he turned, hating every agonizingly long second that his back was turned on the very people who attacked them hours before. He felt the tug of the knife and the release of the wire. His hands dropped to his side and he once again became acutely aware that his shotgun was missing from his holster. His fingers drifted over the empty space on his thigh, missing the familiar weight of his weapon, the cool metal brushing against his fingertips. He turned back around.

The green haired boy skipped to the woman's side.

"I'm Margot," she said and indicated to the young man who had returned to her side like a loyal dog. "This here is Bones, and you've already met my son, Pascal."

She placed a hand on the child's shoulder.

Rapunzel nodded to them but Flynn did not, only remaining stiff and weary. He wasn't sure what game they were playing at; they clearly weren't out for blood, but there had to be something else.

"The dog," he finally grunted, not forgetting that they were missing one last member of their troupe.

Rapunzel let out a quiet gasp. "Yes! Please, I want my dog back."

Margot nodded and led the way, the rest following as she made her way to the entrance.

She rolled open the door and they stepped outside into the dusty, sun scorched earth. The sun was hours from setting, but still beat down on them in a hot fury. Flynn had to squint against the light. Between being hit with the frying pan, the toxic gas, the pressure from blood rushing to his head while he hung upside down and the pressing darkness they had spent the last few hours in, it was no wonder that his skull felt as though it was being drilled apart with a jackhammer.

He was right in assuming they were being kept in some sort of storage unit. He glanced down the row of uniform rollup doors that had once been painted a dark green, but like everything else, had chipped and faded to a much darker, murkier color. Most doors were open, spaces empty. The storage units were surrounded by a long chain link fence, but just past the fence was a manufacturing plant, no longer in use. He gazed up at the gleaming, metal stacks that had poured smoke from the tops at one point. Distilling columns rose high above their heads, one sagging into another like the start of a toppling domino line. The factory, large, and once a symbol of great progressivism for mankind, looked sad and out of place in the midst of the post—apocalyptic landscape. Whatever city these people occupied had likely boasted hundreds of thousands of people once; now Flynn would be lucky if he could count a couple hundred. It was just another reminder of what the world had come to.

"What is that place?" Rapunzel asked, who had also been eyeing the conjugated mess of rust, concrete, metal and glass.

"A factory," Margot answered. "I think they used to manufacture fertilizer…or pesticides. I'm not sure which. This way."

The two turned as Bones, Margot and Pascal moved down the line of storage. They followed until Margot paused in front of one of the closed units and reached down for the handle. She tugged it open and Rapunzel quickly ducked inside for her dog.

The mangy koolie laid in the corner, wearing a muzzle but otherwise unharmed. He whined at his owner, wagging his tail when he recognized her face.

"Maximus!" Rapunzel said happily and went to the dog. Pascal wasn't far behind, just a few steps behind the girl as he watched curiously. It was only fitting the young boy had a fixation with pets. Rapunzel leaned down to unlatch the muzzle, running a comforting hand over his fur.

Flynn, Bones and Margot watched from the opening of the unit. Margot leaned against the frame, her carbine resting against her shoulder still as she watched her son scratch the dogs ear. Once Max had realized his owner was in no immediate danger, he had relaxed considerably and was much less threatening.

 _Not much of a guard dog._ Flynn thought.

"I've met men like you," Margot said, her voice low, and pulling him from his thoughts.

Flynn looked at her, but she kept her eyes forward on the mechanic, the boy and the dog.

"I've been ruffed around by Riders before. Most everyone that lives in this city has been affected by them in some way. That girl might trust you, but I don't," she turned and finally faced him, her eyes hard with hate. "You may not be affiliated with them anymore, but you were with them at one point. For all I care you're still a Rider. You still bear the mark. Don't think for one second that I will hesitate to pull my trigger if you make a wrong move."

"I won't."

His reply is short, definitive. She gazed at him for a long moment but didn't say anything. Instead, she turned back to the three in the unit.

"Let's get back," she called to them. "We can find you some water and food, and maybe a bath," she said as she glanced at Flynn, nose crinkled slightly. "You stink."

 **Authors Note**

 **Another installment here! Thank you everyone for your continued support. I'm still not sure what I was thinking when this story came to me, and I'm still shocked that it's been getting the feedback it has. Ever the worrier, I'm second guessing the characters and this chapter, so please let me know what you think about Flynn, Rapunzel, Pascal and the new characters.**

 **I think its time I get a beta reader. If anyone is interested, or if you'd like to suggest someone, let me know either in a review or through PMs. Thank you.**


	6. Sanctuary

**Sanctuary**

They walked into the ruined city.

Flynn and Rapunzel kept their side of the bargain—behaving themselves—while Margot kept hers—allowing them to enter the city without bullet holes between their shoulders—and a very strained silence filled the space between them as a result.

Margot lead the way with her son by her side. Pascal glanced over his shoulder once every few minutes to eye Flynn. Sometimes, he just looked. Mostly, he made a face or stuck his tongue out. Flynn did his best to ignore him, until he realized that Pascal was still wearing his jacket. So the next time the boy made to turn around, Flynn shoved his head forward while the other hand grabbed the collar of his leather jacket and yanked it off Pascal's shoulders. Pascal stumbled over the cracked cement and the jacket slipped right off his shoulders. Flynn smirked triumphantly and pulled his beloved jacket on while Pascal glared, but didn't bother turning around to antagonize him anymore after that. He checked for his switchblade—gone—but Flynn didn't expect anything less. Bones brought up the rear of the group. He kept quiet, but his domineering presence behind them was enough to keep Flynn and Rapunzel subservient, even though they already agreed to a truce. Just like back at the Canyonlands, Flynn wasn't stupid enough to take his chances with a man twice his size. Maximus trotted between everyone, perfectly content to be back with his owner.

The tension is Flynn's body never seemed to leave. He was willing to be compliant if it meant they got to keep their lives, and leave the city unscathed, but he wasn't about to trust the people that had all but kidnapped them.

They walked in silence from the industrial district to the inner city, where Pascal had stopped their truck and they had been bombed with gas grenades. Flynn recognized the main road they had driven down. There were people now. They eyed the new comers. Most were dressed with a mishmash of weather worn, tattered clothing. Heavy boots marched past the group, the occupants following Flynn and Rapunzel with curious eyes. Children zipped across the road chasing a shabby looking tom cat, and one of them called out Pascal's name. He glanced at his mother before running off to join the rest of the trouble makers. Some of the stores appeared to be opened, the few that had their walls and windows still intact, and people ducked inside the posts to trade.

"Jack rabbit fur, leather boots, sand goggles!" A wiry looking man was shouting from the step to his shop. Flynn turned to his tantalizing voice. He had animal skins hanging in the grimy window along with straps and buckles, canteens, coiled rope and bottles of fermented plants. Rapunzel looked too, nose crinkling at the sight of the dead animals. Across the street, a woman was doing business with another man, haggling over bolt sizes. Her windows were filled with machine parts that Flynn guessed she had accumulated over the years.

Everything was so normal and Flynn found it unsettling. People chatted on the street corner, or smoked outside a store window, pausing only to look at the strangers. There were few places left in the wasteland still like this; a colony of people attempting to form a society with rules and peace, just like before the war. Flynn could count on one hand how many places like this he had seen, and he had seen them while riding in with the other War Dogs, ready to make chaos of order.

His gaze drifted up as they walked, looking towards the tops of business buildings and housing complexes of three, four and five stories. Anything higher seemed to have been demolished or destroyed, either by the war or by harsh weather. Figures, blackened by the brilliant sun behind them, meandered across rooftops. One of them turned, and Flynn caught the familiar glint of a steel gun; lookouts positioned and ready for any threats. He looked to Margot's carbine, still strapped over her shoulder.

Margot seemed to sense Flynn's discomfort. She glanced over her shoulder.

"Something bothering you Rider?" she asked casually.

"Just wondering when concord became best served by the point of a gun," Flynn replied tight lipped. Rapunzel looked at Flynn curiously, who had his gaze turned upward again. She followed, until she spotted the soldiers watching them from the rooftops. She stepped closer to him.

"If you're referring to our sentries then you've got it all wrong. They're there for our protection, nothing more," Margot replied. "We live in a world brinking on anarchy. Can you blame us for taking precautions? Your constant paranoia is a waste of energy Rider. You're perfectly safe here."

He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. It was too similar to how things were run at the Compound. He didn't like it, he didn't like this false freedom Margot was selling. He looked up at the lookouts one more time as they turned down another road, before the figures were lost behind a taller building.

Margot maneuvered the group around a blockade of abandoned, rusted cars, then into one of the apartment complexes that hadn't been completely condemned. The top stories of the building had a gaping hole, like a monster had come through and taken a bite out of the southeast side, but the bottom floors were perfectly intact. Margot pushed open the main door that lead into a lobby. Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust and sand and though it was midday, the room was damp and dim. Sunlight filtered in through holes in the soiled plastic that covered the glass windows, dappling the floorboards. There was an elevator shaft next to the doors, long since out of use, and a staircase to his right that Margot, Bones, Rapunzel and Maximus the dog were steadily climbing.

"So, you're looking for the coast?" Margot said, her voice casual.

"Yes, we're looking for Corona," Rapunzel replied. Flynn fought the desire to say _she_ was looking for Corona, he was just her unwilling driver.

"Corona? You'll have to cross the salt flats for that."

"You've seen it?" Rapunzel asked, voice light and hopeful.

"No, but I've heard rumors of it. And if it's on the coast, that means you'll have to cross the flats."

"So you believe this place exists?" Flynn asked.

"Why not?" Margot replied as they took the stairs to the next floor.

Rapunzel flashed Flynn a smug look and he rolled his eyes but didn't say anything.

Margot switched the topic.

"We have a limited resource of water," the leaders voice echoed in the stairwell as they climbed, "So you'll have to share a bath—sorry. Bones resides in the floor above where you'll be staying, and we have a few other occupants squatting in various rooms that are still livable, so if you need anything, just find someone. I'll see what food I can scrounge up for you."

Margot turned down a hall and opened the door to one of the apartments. The gold numbers were missing, but Rapunzel could still make out the imprint against the faded wood. Margot stepped into the room and moved to the right towards the bathroom. Rapunzel followed, eyeing the small kitchenette and bed that had been folded out from the wall. A set of moth eaten blankets laid out on the mattress. Maximus trotted over to the bed and jumped up, the springs squeaking in protest when he laid down. The room was dingy, and it felt strange compared to her room back at the garage. Hearing water running, Rapunzel went to the bathroom, where Margot was drawing hot water in a claw foot bath.

Margot stepped back into the living room, eyes shifting between Flynn and Rapunzel, pausing to see if they had any questions. When neither said anything, she shifted the carbine on her shoulder.

"We'll leave you to it," she said, looking at Flynn. "The room across the hall should work fine for you. The floor of the kitchen is worn through so there's a draft coming up from the room below yours, but you should be fine. Just…don't fall through."

He nodded his head and Margot turned to follow Bones out of the room. He and Rapunzel listened to their retreating footsteps, waiting until they were sure they were alone before Flynn crossed the room and closed the door after them. He turned to the blonde.

"Do you trust them?" Flynn asked.

He watched Rapunzel roll her green eyes, shoulders slumping forward tiredly. "Flynn," she said, exasperated, "Does it matter? They've offered us a place to stay and food and that's more than we could have hoped for. We're lucky they were willing to help us, instead of cutting us up and leaving our bodies for the buzzards."

"They still haven't told us where the tanker is parked. I still don't have my shotgun and we don't have any of the supplies we entered the city with…" Flynn muttered, reaching a hand up to absentmindedly scratch at his goatee.

"Christ! Flynn! Give it a rest!"

The uncharacteristic outburst from her caused Flynn to look up. She was rubbing her temples in circles, an irritated sigh escaping her lips. It seemed that any progress they had made in the storage unit while they were tied up, had completely dilapidated. They were back at square one. "They're just trying to help," she continued, but her voice was softer now. "Ever since we made this deal you've been questioning people's motives left and right. Why can't you just give them the benefit of the doubt? Not everyone is like you! Not everyone is looking to slaughter, kidnap or pilfer us."

Her words stung. Slaughter, kidnap, pilfer. All the things a Rider was best at. Because that's all he was, a grisly, heartless Rider with a taste for destruction. A man who made widows of wives and orphans of children. As much as he tried to run from the fact, it was still there, branded onto him like the symbol on his neck. He was a Rider, he would always be a Rider. His hands curled into fists, trying to keep the tendrils of sour emotion that coiled the pit of his stomach at bay. Shame, anger, self doubt, hatred…it all threatened to break through the surface and he had to constantly fight to keep it down. He stepped forward and Rapunzel immediately shrunk back a step.

There was a growl from the bed.

"They obviously don't trust us, so why should we trust them?" he said, voice low.

"Because we don't have a choice," Rapunzel's voice was firm and final. She turned on her heel and went to the bathroom, closing the door with more force than necessary. A few seconds later the sound of running water stopped.

Flynn sighed and walked to the bed, suddenly feeling very exhausted. He slumped onto the mattress, stained with something dark but he couldn't care less, and lifted a hand to pet Maximus. The dog shifted until he was out of Flynn's reach then laid back down again, clearly not looking to make friends with the man any time soon.

Flynn laced his fingers behind his head instead and drew a deep breath through his nose. His eyelids dropped.

 _The girl's right, Margot's trustworthy, the Brothers are dead, I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe._

Flynn repeated the statement over and over again like a mantra, saying it until he believed it. At some point he had to realize that what Rapunzel said was true. He may not like how Margot ran things, but she had offered them a place to stay and food to eat. She had offered them protection. But a nagging part of Flynn's brain just couldn't let it go. There was always something to be scared of, something to worry about, something to carefully watch. Flynn did all he could to wrack his brain and find that one thing that would prove that he was right and everyone else was wrong.

But he couldn't.

Try as he might, it seemed Margot had only one agenda: help the strangers that had stumbled upon her sanctuary.

The door opened moments later and Rapunzel stepped out. She had removed the top half of her tan mechanic coveralls, tying the sleeves around her waist. Underneath she wore a faded pink tank top. Her hair was still wet, and she had tied it up and out of her face. It looked much lighter, now that she had the dirt and car oil washed out of it, and it reminded Flynn of the wattle trees he used to see growing around the Compound.

He sat up and the mattress squeaked under him. Rapunzel loitered by the doorway to the bathroom, eyeing him. She seemed to be either waiting for more protests from him, or perhaps some yelling, and quite frankly Flynn didn't blame her. There was so much he wanted to explain to her; why he was so paranoid all the time, why he had been on the run, why he had given up hope in mankind, and why he wanted nothing more than to apologize to her, but the words were lost to him. Even if he did know what to say, he'd probably just keep it to himself.

Rapunzel nodded towards the tub. "It's all yours," she said evenly when Flynn just stared at her.

Flynn stood up wordlessly and moved towards the bathroom. He couldn't help but notice the way Rapunzel shrank into the wood frame as he passed through the narrow doorway, avoiding any sort of accidental physical contact with him. The leftover water in the tub was a bit murky, but he was just grateful he finally got a chance to wash all the sand, sweat and blood off of him from the past week. He dipped a finger into the water—tepid.

He shrugged off his leather jacket and yanked the cotton shirt off over his head. He reached down, unlaced his boots and kicked them off. When he straightened, he caught his refection in the mirror.

His hair was a mess. It was always a mess. But it was even messier than usual. A bruise of blue and purple blossomed over the side of his head where Rapunzel had hit him with the frying pan. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and his side was yellow where Bones had punched him. As he shifted to undo his belt, his joints ached and his muscles seemed to be growing weaker with every movement. Too preoccupied with trying to stay alive, and with his body seeming to continually pump adrenaline, he hadn't realized how drained he had let himself get. He needed rest.

Something caught his eye in the reflection of the spotted mirror. He shifted his gaze to the doorway, where he saw a pair of green eyes and blur of blonde hair as Rapunzel ducked back into the room.

The half smile that appeared on Flynn's lips was one that hadn't been seen in a while. He glanced back at his pitiful reflection and his near empty smirk, before he shook his head and moved towards the bath.

Rapunzel all but flung herself onto the soiled bed. Her cheeks burning from the blush on her face, she buried her nose in Maximus's fur to hide her embarrassment. She had never seen a naked man before, and the temptation was too great. There was plenty to stare at; the thread like scars across his shoulders, the dimples in his lower back, the way his rough hands brushed over the fabric of his shirt as he tossed it to the floor, but what she couldn't tear her gaze away from was his eyes. They were the color of a coffee stain and just as bitter. And sad. She had never seen such sad eyes before.

She groaned into Maximus's soft fur, her face aflame. The dog whimpered and twisted his head to lick her cheek. Why had she done that and more importantly why had she been caught?

When the door to the bathroom opened, she didn't move. Just laid still with her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. She heard Flynn move about the room then the sound of the door opening and closing. She peered through her lashes and realized that she was completely alone. The dimly lit room suddenly felt cold and uninviting. She wished him back but the door didn't open again.

Across the hall, Flynn was exploring his quarters. A similar sunken bed as the one across the hall, an empty refrigerator that no longer ran, and wood floors everywhere but in the kitchen, where black rot had eaten holes into the room below. Flynn leaned over the creaking boards to look, but he couldn't see anything through the deteriorated gaps.

He no longer smelled acrid and salty, and he had forgotten that dirt didn't permanently reside under his fingernails. His hair smelled like sandalwood now and his knuckles weren't black with dried blood. It was a nice change.

There was a knock at his door. He turned his head towards the noise.

"Come in."

Margot appeared in the kitchen a few seconds later with a beer in one hand a pewter plate of food in the other. She handed him the drink.

"I know it's not much," Margot said, looking at the floorboards, "But it's something."

"It's fine," Flynn said as she passed him the plate; dried meat, green beans from a can and a roll of stale bread. His mouth watered at the sight. "But I can't stay," Flynn added as he popped the cap on the beer bottle.

"Why not?" Margot asked.

 _Because I don't want to be here, because the girl can find someone else to drive her, because I don't know how to be with people anymore, because…because…because._

The thoughts clicked through his mind but all he could say was, "I just can't. I want to leave tonight."

Margot's black gaze was dissecting. "What about the girl?"

"She's safe with you," he replied too quickly, as though to reassure himself of what he had said. "Besides, someone like her should be as far away as possible from someone like me."

Margot pursed her lips, letting a few seconds of silence tick between them. She leaned against the kitchen table, arms crossed over her chest. "She needs you more than you know, and you need her more than you think."

Flynn wasn't in the mood to be lectured, so he didn't immediately reply. He dug into his food and it tasted so good that he let out a groan. It had been days since he had a decent meal.

"I thought you didn't like me?" he finally asked with his mouth full.

"I don't," Margot replied as she watched him eat. "But the girl likes you and Pascal seems to see something in you. Besides, I'm willing to help whoever needs it, and you dear boy, need it."

Flynn scowled. He didn't need her help and he definitely didn't need her calling him a boy.

"You can help me by getting me a car."

"Not the tanker?" Margot said.

Flynn considered asking her where they had taken the vehicle, but he shook his head instead and set aside the plate, brushing his hands together. "No," he answered and chased the food down with a few more sips of beer. "I need something lighter and faster. Have anything?"

Margot sighed, "I'm sure we can get you something but in the meantime you need rest—"

Flynn snorted. Sleep; it was easier said than done.

Margot's lip curled unpleasantly. "I'm doing the best I can here Rider, the least you could do is say thank you," she snapped.

Flynn kept silent.

"It might take me a while to find a ride so you might as well rest. I'll come get you as soon as I get a car."

Margot snatched the bottle from his hand and took the plate then walked towards the door. Flynn scowled, knowing that he was going to regret the next words that were going to come out of his mouth. He followed her to the door.

"Margot?" he said.

"What?"

He hesitated. "Thank you," he managed out, "Not just for the car, but for the food, and the company, and everything."

Margot's gaze narrowed, searching Flynn's face for honesty. When she saw no stipulations making their way to the surface, she sighed. "You're welcome," she said slowly. "I don't mean to be prejudice Rider. I know you've seen some hard times, we all have. There's a lot of bad in the world but there's also some good. It's hard to find, but it's there."

Flynn didn't know what to say so he didn't say anything.

"The girl has found it."

"She's found delusion," Flynn grumbled.

"She's found hope which is the closest thing we have to goodness. She's a good girl, you're lucky to know her."

He didn't want to have this conversation. He already knew what Rapunzel was like, so Flynn just settled with a firm, "Goodnight Margot," instead of a real reply.

"Goodnight."

The door closed after her. Flynn went to the living room and tossed himself onto the fold out bed. As he buried his face into the pile of blankets, he decided that perhaps Margot wasn't such a bad person after all. In a few hours she would be back with a car and he would be on the road again. And this little adventure with Rapunzel would be a thing of the past; a distant memory.

 **Authors Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I know this one is a bit slow, but I promise promise promise the next chapter will be worth the wait. And speaking of wait, I will try very hard to get the next chapter written and posted in a reasonable time frame. I just got so busy with school and life that I couldn't get this one out in a timely manner.**

 **To the wonderful reader who offered to be my beta; I tried to message you, but your private messaging is turned off. I did get myself a beta who will hopefully whip me into shape for the rest of the story. I am also considered changing the rating of the story from 'T' to 'M' for some later chapters. Will let you know when I come to a decision on that. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Any ideas for what will happen next in the story? Do you think Flynn is really going to leave Rapunzel behind?**


	7. World Turned Upside Down (Part One)

**World Turned Upside Down**

By the time midnight crept over the sand dunes, Margot's sanctuary was miles behind Flynn. She was true to her word, and she came back to his place a few hours later. She woke him up from a fitful sleep and took him downstairs. Out on the street, in the diming sunlight, she showed him the 1966 Charger she had bargained for him. It was a rust bucket compared to his Mustang, but he was still grateful. He asked about his shotgun and Margot just smirked in reply.

"We'll be keeping that," she had said, "Consider it payment for the food."

Flynn scowled but didn't bother bickering with her. He would get his hands on some new weapons some other way. She had wished him luck on his journey and watched him climb into the car and pull away from the condemned building.

As he eased off the clutch, he kept one eye on the road ahead, and the other on the lookouts posted on the rooftops; their shadowy figures hardly visible at dawn. They followed his car until it was out of sight.

While they were dangling from rusted pipes in a storage unit, Rapunzel had said that she didn't think him a coward. And yet here he was, doing the same thing he had always done; running from his mistakes, running from help, and running from his past. He wondered what she would do when she woke up in the morning to find that he had abandoned her in the middle of the night. Would she be angry? Would she try and come after him? Would she think him a coward then? Flynn wasn't sure but he couldn't stop picturing her face pained with a look of disappointment.

 _Get used to it Blondie_ , he told himself, _I disappoint everyone._

And he shook the image of her gentle eyes out of his mind. She was behind him now; just another face to add to his memory.

Flynn switched gears. The lift from the Charger gave him the unmistakable feeling of driving over glass, even over a rocky landscape like this one, and he slowed a bit. The engine revved then leveled out as he kept a consistent speed.

He could hear an echo in the car.

Flynn's brow furrowed and his gaze drifted to the console. The radio was off like always, and the air conditioning was broken—one of the many charms of the old car—so the noise wasn't coming from the dashboard. The muffler had been rattling since he left the town, but this noise was different. Softer, hardly noticeable. He held his breath a moment, foot lifting off the gas pedal.

Breathing. Now he could hear that the noise was unmistakably breathing. Someone else was in the car with him.

He hit the brake hard and the car jerked. Whoever had stowed away in the back of the Charger tumbled forward and smacked into the back of the driver's seat. There was a loud "Oomph" and a groan from the stowaway. Flynn opened his door, climbed out and adjusted the seat forward. On the floor, tangled in a blanket and a few supplies, was Margot's son. He looked up and grinned sheepishly at Flynn. Flynn clenched his teeth, reached into the back seat and grabbed a fistful of green hair. Pascal yelped as he was dragged from the vehicle and tossed into the sand face first. He rolled over and looked up at Flynn with a mix of admiration, fear, and mischief.

"What do you think you are doing?" Flynn snarled, and it was all he could do not to yell at the boy. Aside from the fact that Pascal had scared him half to death, now Flynn had one more thing to deal with before going off on his own. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone? He was sick of dealing with people.

Pascal panted excitedly. "I overhead my mom talking with Lucius about buying a car off him for cheap. Promised him a new generator for the shop if they could make a deal. I knew you were leaving and I wanted to come."

"Does Margot know you snuck away?" Flynn asked.

"'Course not!" Pascal replied. "I snuck into the back when she went upstairs to get you. I knew she would never let me come if I asked, and even if she did, I knew that you wouldn't agree to it," Pascal said.

"Damn straight," Flynn answered and pointed back towards the city. "Now start walking."

Flynn turned on his heel and marched towards the car. Pascal scrambled to his feet and wiped the sand off his cargo shorts. He jogged after Flynn.

"But we could be partners!" Pascal called.

"No."

"I want to help you!"

"I work alone."

Flynn slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door as if to finalize his answer. Pascal ran around the back of the car and whipped open the passenger door before Flynn had a chance to lock it. He threw himself into the seat, grinning wickedly, and closed the door behind him.

"I can take care of myself," he persisted, "I know my way around a knife pretty well and I can drive. You won't have to worry about me at all. We could be like Tonto and the Lone Ranger, two men on a cross country road trip rescuing damsels and fighting for justice."

For added emphasis, Pascal curled his hands into fists and took a few punches at some imaginary foe. Flynn dropped his head back against his seat and pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. He could have laughed at Pascal's use of 'men' when there was clearly just one. One man, and one devilishly persistent boy. But he was not in the mood.

"Who are Tonto and the Lone Ranger?" he muttered.

Pascal looked at him. "You've never heard of the _Lone Ranger_?" he asked incredulously. "It's an old story from before the war. If you let me come with you, I'll tell you the story."

Flynn glowered at him and the boy just grinned.

"Listen kid," Flynn snapped, "You know what I am, I'm sure Margot's told you what people like me do, doesn't that scare you?"

"Nothing scares me," Pascal challenged and Flynn let out an exasperated groan. There was no way he was bringing the kid with him. He only just got rid of the last baggage he had picked up. He looked at Pascal, studying his green hair, scrawny shoulders and bare feet, and wondered if the boy was that much different from Flynn when he was that age.

"How'd you do that to your hair anyway?" he asked after a moment of silence.

Pascal grinned. "Oh this?" he asked, pointing to his green curls. "A lot of hydrogen peroxide and a lot of ammonia. And I mean _a lot_. So much so my head burned for a week after I managed to turn my hair white. Then it was a mix of woad and greenweed dye to get it to look green. Like it? I figured that we see so much red and brown and grey in the world but not enough green. I wanted to make my hair look like leaves on a tree. My mom was so mad that I wasted resources, but I like it."

Flynn rolled his eyes but felt his lips curl upwards, despite himself. As annoying as Pascal was, he had a certain charm that surrounded him that made him one step above 'completely unbearable' to 'almost bearable.' Irritating beyond compare, but at least Flynn got some amusement with talking to him. Flynn pressed his head into the leather of the seat, as if he'd be able to disappear into the upholstery altogether. To disappear; that was all he wanted. He needed the boy to walk back to the sanctuary, but it seemed Pascal wasn't about to go anywhere. He could drive him back, hand him over to Margot and be gone again before sunrise. Or Flynn could just force him from the car—he was ten years old after all. It's not like he would put up much of a fight. Flynn sighed and glanced into the review mirror at the dark skyline on the horizon that was Margot's city, wondering what to do with the little parasite in his car.

Except, it wasn't a dark skyline anymore.

Flynn twisted around in his seat to look out the back window, squinting. Where the city should have been, there was a brilliant glow in its place.

 _Fire._

"What?"

Pascal twisted in his seat to look at whatever Flynn was staring at. It took a few moments, but he quickly put two and two together. His home was on fire. Pascal turned to Flynn. "We have to go back!"

Flynn, who was facing forward again, said an even toned "No."

"But my mother's back there!" he replied, "And Bones! And Rapunzel! We have to go save them!"

Flynn grit his teeth. It was the same thing over and over again. The same thing he had been trying to get away from since he left the Compound. _Trouble_. It followed him everywhere and every time he managed to get a little bit ahead, it came back with a vengeance. Tonight was supposed to be his last night of trouble—his fist night of freedom. He was supposed to say goodbye to everything, _to everyone_ , and be his own man, but fate kept dragging him back. He couldn't return to the city. He never wanted to be a part of that. He didn't want to get attached, and going back to help those people was the definition of attachment.

When he left the Compound he didn't look back. When he left the sanctuary he didn't look back.

"No, we don't," Flynn breathed, fingers tightening over the leather steering wheel. He hated hearing those words come out of his mouth, but they needed to be said. Those people weren't his problem anymore.

"So we're just going to leave them?" Pascal shouted, his voice cracking over the last few words. Flynn didn't reply. Pascal's gaze bore holes into the side of his face, but Flynn refused to look at him. Pascal yanked open the passenger door, climbed out, and slammed the door shut with as much force as he could muster. The Charger rocked and through the glass of the passenger window, Flynn heard Pascal shout, "You coward! You heartless coward!"

Flynn flinched. There was that word again.

Pascal took off at a sprint towards the city. Flynn watched his lanky form stumble over the sand towards his home, running as fast as he could.

Flynn could feel apprehension twist in his stomach. Funny, he seemed to be getting that feeling more and more lately and he didn't like it one bit. He sighed, though it sounded more like a hiss. He left the Compound specifically to get away from death and destruction, but as he revved the engine, he knew he was heading straight back into the jaws of death. He grit his teeth.

God, he hated this. Being a selfless person was more work than he thought.

Flynn put the car into gear and the wheels kicked up sand as he flipped the car around. He sped towards Pascal, who was now a shadow against the glow of the burning city. He pulled up alongside the boy, who quickly opened the passenger side door and slid in.

"Buckle up," Flynn commanded but Pascal was already in the process.

"What do you think it is?" Pascal panted, winded from running.

Flynn shook his head. He wasn't sure why the city was on fire, but he had a pretty good idea that it was no accident. As they neared the blaze, his heart hammer jacked in his chest, afraid of what they would find in the burning city.

It was the smoke that woke Rapunzel. She coughed herself awake to find the room hazy and a very worried Maximus pacing across the floor, whining. Rapunzel coughed and sputtered as she rolled off the cot she had been sleeping on. She hit the floorboards and crawled to the window, looking out. The town was so brilliant with light, she would have thought it was midday. The flames were _everywhere_. The building across the road was completely consumed and belching out large puffs of smoke. There was a sound like a cannon fire, a crackling sound that reverberated across the road and Rapunzel felt the vibration in her bones. Starting from the top, the building folding onto itself like a deflating birthday cake, until it was just a mound of burning plaster. She looked down. The bottom floors of her complex were alight. She could feel the heat from the fire below on her cheeks. She dropped back into the room with a gasp.

Remembering something she read about staying below the smoke line, Rapunzel crawled to Maximus and hugged the dog to her. The bottom levels were on fire and she wasn't sure how she was going to escape. She needed to move though. The building was old and decrepit to begin with, so it was only a matter of time before the flames caused the structure to fall in on itself.

There was a bang at the door. Then another one. Rapunzel's nails dug into Maximus fur. Someone was kicking down the door. A few more thuds of boot against wood and the door tore off its hinges, swinging open and crashing to the floor. The figure in the doorway was shrouded by smoke, but she could make out broad shoulders and a leather jacket.

 _Flynn!_

She almost said his name aloud, relief flooding her body. He would know what to do.

He stepped further into the room and Rapunzel realized, with a sort of cold confusion, that it wasn't Flynn at all. The man was bigger than Flynn, with a shaved head and a skeleton tattoo covering his body. It was Bones. He scanned the room with his blackened eyes, saw Rapunzel and went to her, offering his hand.

She took it.

He hauled her up effortlessly, taking her hand in his fist. He led the way out of the room, across the hall to where Flynn was staying. Maximus kept close to Rapunzel's side. She covered her nose and mouth with her free arm, but the smoke still burned her eyes, making them water and making it that much more difficult to see. She kept close to Bones, using him both as a guide and a shield from the smoke. He kicked down the door to the other room and led her to the other side of the room, stopping at a window. Her gazed flew over to the fold out bed but Flynn wasn't there. Just a pile of blankets and the imprint of where his body should have been.

Bones dropped her hand and wrestled with the window frame. Once he got it open, he indicated for Rapunzel to climb out. She wearily stepped closer to the window and looked out at the rusted fire escape that zig zagged down the back of the building.

"Where's Flynn? I don't want to leave without him." Rapunzel wheezed.

Bones gave her a long look, shoulders dropping. His gaze said it all. Flynn was gone. Where, or when, or how, she wasn't sure, but he was gone, maybe even for good. And somehow, that didn't surprise her.

There wasn't time to dwell on Flynn. The building was creaking and groaning and Rapunzel felt like the skin on her face and fingers would peel away from the heat of the fire. She wiped her sweating brow with a determined nod and bent down, lifting Maximus with a grunt. She dropped him onto the fire escape then ducked through the window. Bones followed. Their shoes clanked against the iron grate as they took the stairs to the ground below.

Out on the street, the world was turned upside down and burning in hellfire. It was chaos everywhere. People were running and screaming, men with hidden faces were looting the shops, the look outs on the rooftops were gunning down the invaders as they sped down the streets, buildings were collapsing…Rapunzel had never see so much destruction in one place.

Bones took her hand again and they started running for their lives.

"Where are we going?" Rapunzel yelled over the noise of screaming and gunfire and revving engines. He didn't say anything, just urged her faster

Rapunzel screamed as the building they were running past exploded in a fiery blast of glass, smoke and splintered wood. She ducked, covering her head as the heat from the blast seared the side of her face. Bones ducked too, and when the flames subsided, he dragged her on. Her chest burned from the smoke as she gasped huge lungfuls of tainted air. The dust and hot soot settled on her skin turning it grey. Sweat ran in rivulets down the back of her neck, soaking her mechanic coveralls. She stumbled over the uneven ground but Bones kept her hand tight in his and somehow kept her on her feet.

She was so frightened. Her body was a hurricane of adrenaline, making her tremble. She wanted to do _something_ , fight back, scream, hide. She wanted to be brave and help these people. Her body was ready, tense and coiled for a fight. But her will to take action didn't make it past her thoughts. All she could seem to do was stumble after Bones helplessly, too scared to do anything; paralyzed with fear. She felt like crying. Who was attacking the city in the middle of the night? Where was Bones taking her? Where were Flynn and Margot? Who would do something like this? So many thoughts circled her mind and her senses were in a frenzy, trying to take in the anarchy that was unfolding around her. It was all too much.

Bones came to an abrupt stop and Rapunzel ran right into his back. Maximus halted too, lips curling over his sharp canines and fur standing on end. Rapunzel looked over Bones's shoulder to see what had stopped him and when she saw who was blocking their path, her blood ran cold despite the heat. She tried to swallow, but fear had seized her raw throat. She choked out a gasp.

It was one of the Brothers, the one with the long scar across his jaw. He had his cross bow strung and positioned, aiming right at Bones and Rapunzel. He sneered.

Rapunzel shut her eyes tight and opened them again.

 _This isn't right, it can't be happening_.

She had told Slit to blow the bridge herself. She had watched the Brothers get buried beneath a pile of rubble. There was no way they survived a rock fall. And yet, one was standing right before her eyes. _A dead man walking_. Dread filled her body. They had come after Flynn and they brought reinforcements. Riders had descended upon the city in the middle of the night, all for one man. Margot's people were suffering, _dying_ , because they had offered her and Flynn a place to stay. They were paying a terrible consequence for being good people. Rapunzel felt like she was going to be sick. This was her fault. She and Flynn brought the Riders to the city.

The Brothers grin grew as he watched Rapunzel.

"Thought you got rid of us, didn't you princess?" he asked and Rapunzel hated the sound of his voice. It was harsh and gravely. He took a step closer. "Where's Flynn?"

Bones side stepped in front of Rapunzel. She put a hand over her stomach, trying to subside the terrible feeling in her gut. "We—we thought you were dead," she called to the Brother, voice shaking. She kept herself behind Bones, not looking over at the Brother as she spoke.

"Probably would have been, if it wasn't for your mother."

Again, Rapunzel felt cold fear wash over her body. Her mother?

She looked at him and he continued, once he realized he had her attention. "She came and dug us out, offered us a deal if we helped track you down," he explained.

Rapunzel's head pounded. Her mother? What was she doing making deals with Riders? Was she here in the city? What happened to the ruffians back at the Canyonlands? Had they joined them too? Her hands trembled as they reached up and grabbed Bones's shoulder. She needed something to keep her steady.

Bones seemed to have had enough of the conversation. Glowering at the weasel of a Rider that was blocking their path, he reached behind him and grabbed the carbine strapped to his back. He tucked the gun against his shoulder, pulled the bolt back, and took aim.

The Brother was quicker. He repositioned his cross bow and pulled the trigger. There was a hiss of the wind and then a thump. The arrow lodged unto Bones's chest and he gasped, falling to his knees.

"No!" Rapunzel yelled and reached for Bones to keep him from hitting the ground. She sunk to her knees and Bones collapsed on top of her. The arrow in his chest swayed with each shuttering breath he took. "No, no, no!" Rapunzel chanted, fingers brushing over his chest. Blood was blossoming around the shaft of the arrow that had buried into his ribcage. He just looked at her, brows pinched, eyes sad and unfocused.

The Brother marched over. Maximus barked wildly and lunged at the man. He swung his cross bow and whacked the dog as hard as he could. Maximus whimpered as the butt of the bow smacked against his head and he was thrown a few feet to the side. The Brother shouldered his cross bow and wrapped a massive arm around Rapunzel's waist. She screamed again and reached for Bones, taking his tattooed hand in hers. He reached for her, clamping onto her forearm with his other hand, trying to keep the Rider from taking her, but a swift kick to the face broken them apart. Rapunzel screamed and kicked and cried and tried to wrestle herself free but the Brother had her pinned to his side and was dragging her away. She looked at Bones, still reaching for him, but his breathing was shallow and his face was painted in his own blood. He wasn't getting up.

She screamed again and sent a flurry of elbows, fists and kicks, but the Brothers tight grip around her body never subsided. He pressed her to him more firmly, and wrapped a hand around her mouth to try and keep her quiet. She was in hysterics, and now found it difficult to breath with his hand covering most of her face. She squirmed and her teeth found flesh. She bit down as hard as she could, tasting blood and digging further. She wanted to feel the bones of his finger. She wanted to hurt the man more than anything, make him suffer. He cried out and released her mouth but did not loosen the arm around her waist. His free hand, now bleeding, went to her wrist, which was flying at his face for a well aimed punch, and he pinned it down. She struggled some more and the Brother could have smirked; she was half his size, but she had a lot of fight in her for such a small girl. He relished the feeling of her struggling against him, as if she had a chance against his strength. If it wasn't for the bite mark, or the multiple kicks to the shin, he would have let her grapple a bit longer. But she could do a surprising amount of damage and he needed to get her to the car, then they could focus on finding Flynn.

Maximus was up again, snapping his jaws and growling at the Brother that held Rapunzel. He went for his legs, trying to clamp down on his calf. The Brother kicked at the dog.

Between Rapunzel's screams, Maximus barking, the crackling flames around them, and the noise of distant gunfire, the Brother had almost missed the sound of a revving engine as it tore up the street towards them. He looked up as headlights shined on them, the car screeching to a halt just feet from where they stood. Rapunzel stopped squirming long enough to see what was happening. They both squinted through the smoke as the driver climbed out.

The Brother chuckled. "Speak of the devil!" he called in a light voice.

"Flynn!" Rapunzel cried.

Flynn slammed the door to the Charger shut.

"Let her go Pollux." He said slowly as he walked towards them. He was very aware of the fact that Pollux's weapon count was up to two, with the cross bow and the revolver at his waist, and Flynn's was a resounding zero. He wasn't sure he could talk his way out of this one.

He watched Pollux snake his arm tighter around Rapunzel. She winced against him, and Flynn fumed with anger. He hated seeing Pollux hold her like that. He wanted nothing more than to claw that terrible sneer off his brutish face.

"Did you miss me, pretty boy?" Pollux taunted, "Thought you got rid of us, didn't you?"

Flynn's hands curled into fists. Pollux was just playing games with him, teasing him, tormenting him, like he had been doing for the last sixteen years and Flynn was tired of it. He lunged.

 **Authors Note: Due to the overwhelming drop in reviews, I'm guessing last chapter was not so popular. That's okay; I figured it wouldn't be. Hopefully this makes up for it! Thank you again, everyone, for your continued support. How did you like this chapter? Anyone curious how Flynn's going to get himself out of this one? Very excited for the next chapter, and I hope you are too.**


	8. Mothers (Part Two)

**Mothers**

 _"Ollie! Ollie my darling, wake up."_

 _Oliver sat up in bed, sleepy eyed and confused. He looked around the dim room then scrubbed the palms of his hands against his eye sockets. His mother was there, bent over his bed. Her wild curls created a curtain around them, and this close up Oliver could see the bloodshot and puffiness of her eyes. She had been crying._

 _"What time is it?" the thirteen year old asked, voice heavy. His mother didn't reply. She stood and went about his room, searching and pulling things off the shelf and out of the closet. Oliver's brows furrowed as he watched his mother pull a rucksack out from under his bed and began filling it with clothes._

 _"Wake your brother Ollie," she said as she stuffed the bag with a handful of socks._

 _Oliver slid out of his bed and climbed up the bunk steps to his brother's bed. He reached out and shook the pile of blankets that had swallowed his brother during the night._

 _"Liam," he whispered. "Liam, get up."_

 _Liam, two years younger but equal to Oliver in every way but age, emerged from the blankets._

 _"What? What is it?" he grumbled._

 _Oliver put a finger to his lips and indicated to his mother, attempting to keep Liam quiet. He shrugged; something was wrong with mother, but Oliver couldn't tell what just yet. He wanted to be careful until he knew what had made her upset, he didn't want to upset her further by saying something wrong. The two climbed down the bunk and watched as their mother pulled out white shirts and ties from the closet. She looked like a moth, flitting from one corner of the room to the other._

 _"Get dressed boys," she said gently and left the room._

 _Oliver looked at Liam and they both began slowly changing out of their pajamas._

 _"Ollie, what's going on?"_

 _"I don't know," Oliver replied, lifting his black trousers to look at them. Their mother had picked out their best clothing: white shirts with collars, ties, black slacks and their black shoes. It was the kind of outfit they would wear to church—if they ever went to church._

 _"Do you think mom's finally lost it?" Liam asked in a hushed voice as he struggled with his neck tie._

 _Oliver slapped his hand away and retied his brother's tie for him. "She hasn't lost anything," he snapped, annoyed at Liam's insensitivity. He yanked the tie a little too forcefully, and Liam hooked a finger around his collar to loosen it. Something was wrong. Their mother had obviously spent the night crying, but over what Oliver wasn't sure. Perhaps it was something they did. Oliver was certain he finished the dinner dishes, so it couldn't be that. Maybe Liam back talked to her earlier that evening._

 _"Do you think it's dad?" Liam asked, his voice so quiet Oliver almost missed what he had said._

 _Oliver shook his head. Their dad had been gone for ages and they had gotten along just fine without him. It was a rare occasion he was brought up in conversation, mother had said it was a waste of breath to talk about someone who was all but dead to them. Besides, if their mother was crying about their father abandoning them almost ten years ago, that still didn't explain why she woke them up to get dressed in the middle of the night._

 _"Well then, what is it?" Liam asked again._

 _Oliver looked at his young brother, who he usually had all the right answers for. But tonight, he had no idea what to say. So instead he just put a hand on Liam's shoulder and led him towards the bedroom door, leaving a crumpled pile of identical fire truck printed pajamas at the foot of their beds._

"Thought you got rid of us, didn't you?" Pollux called.

The look on Flynn's face as he climbed out of the car was one Pollux would not soon forget. It was fast and fleeting, but it was there; dreaded disbelief, fear, anger, deep seeded agony. It all lined his face for a few seconds, before his brows drew together and his lips pursed in a determined snarl. Vulnerable Flynn was gone and Rider Flynn was back, ready to draw some blood.

Pollux grinned wickedly and he released his hold on the girl. She crumpled to the ground at his feet, gasping and coughing for the air he had choked out of her. The dog whimpered and went to her, sniffing and licking her face. Pollux would return to girl to Gothel like he had promised, but not before he gave Flynn a well deserved beating. He faced Flynn full on, fingers aching to reach for his cross bow. He resisted the urge, first wanting to do as much damage as possible to Flynn with his bare hands. And when he had Flynn on the ground, bleeding and begging for it to stop, then he would sink an arrow into his chest.

Flynn's face darkened and Pollux saw his knees bend as he sprung forward. In a few strides, he closed the distance between them and barreled his head and shoulder into Pollux's stomach. The two went reeling backwards and Pollux landed on his back, his skull cracking against the asphalt. Flynn straddled him and reached for the revolver around his waist, drawing it from his holster and taking aim. Before he could shoot, Pollux whacked it out of his hand and the gun went skittering across the ground. Maximus joined in the frenzy, barking and snapping his canines.

Rapunzel looked up as the two men wrestled with each other. The revolver stopped a few yards from where she laid. If she could just get herself up and grab the gun…

"Rapunzel!"

Her head snapped to Flynn, who had one hand on Pollux's chest and the other raised in a fist, ready to punch. "Rapunzel! Run!" he yelled at her then turned and landed a sharp blow to Pollux's jaw.

She scrambled clumsily to her feet and did as she was told, the revolver forgotten. She ran to the Chargers open door on the driver's side, Maximus at her heels, but stopped before getting in. Across the hood, she could see Bones's body lying on the sidewalk. His breathing was shallow, but it was there none the less. She ran around the car and went to the man, kneeling down at his side.

"Bones," she breathed, "It's okay. You're going to be fine," she talked as she studied the arrow. She wasn't sure she should pull it out, or even if she could, it was embedded so far down between his ribs. He looked at her helplessly, the color drained from his tattooed face. His face was contorted in pain and his eyes were wet. He closed them in a wince when she touched the arrow to test it. It was such a different persona to the one she met the day before. He had seemed so intimidating and strong at the time.

"I am so sorry," Rapunzel whispered, her own eyes were swimming and the knot in her stomach intensified.

 _My fault, my fault, my fault…_ she thought.

She looked up at Flynn.

Pollux had managed to wiggle himself free. He rolled over and leapt to his feet, going for Flynn again. He wrapped two beefy arms around his neck in a head lock. Flynn squirmed and reached back, blindingly clawing for Pollux's face. When that didn't work, he jabbed an elbow into his spleen and Pollux's grip loosened enough to allow him to slip free. Pollux doubled over, hacking and clutching his side. Flynn had a chance to make an escape, but instead he turned and drilled his knuckles into Pollux again and again and again, hitting his face, chest, throat and stomach. He kept hitting until his fingers bruised and he saw blood. Pollux brought his arms up to protect his face, then swung his leg to catch Flynn's shins. Flynn caved and they were both on the ground again.

Maximus tore after the men and leaped towards Pollux, his teeth biting into the skin on his leg. He shook his head, growling, as Pollux kicked his feet and threw another punch at Flynn's face. Pollux cried out as Maximus's teeth sank deeper into his calf muscle.

Flynn couldn't do this forever. His breathing was labored and his muscles were beginning to strain, even with the pump of adrenaline coursing through his body. There was blood on his face and hands, and the large gash crossing his forehead was beginning to bleed into his eyes. He wanted to hurt Pollux like Pollux had hurt him, but he also knew Pollux couldn't be beat like this. Pollux was stronger, sturdier and had more stamina. They had to make their getaway soon.

Flynn looked up, his gaze landing on the revolver a few feet in front of him. If he could get away long enough to grab the gun then he could sink a bullet in Pollux and be done with it. With his attention elsewhere, Pollux managed a solid hit to Flynn's jaw. Flynn's head snapped to the side and he crumpled on the ground as Pollux readied another blow. Maximus lunged over Pollux's legs and caught his raised arm, dragging him to the ground with a vicious growl.

Flynn, finding his window of opportunity as Pollux now battled Maximus, and deciding to abandon the idea of trying to get hold of the gun, jumped to his feet and ran for the Charger.

This was one battle he couldn't win. They would have to make a break for it and pray for the best.

"Maximus! Come!" Flynn called when he realized the dog was still attacking the Brother. For once, he listened and loped after Flynn.

Pollux got to his feet and pulled the cross bow out, releasing an arrow from the quiver. Favoring the leg that the dog hadn't ripped to shreds, and ignoring the throbbing in the back of his head, he restrung the bow.

"Rapunzel, let's go!" Flynn cried, going to her. He grabbed her by the arm and hoisted her to her feet.

"No!" she protested.

"Leave him!" Flynn snapped, his gaze flickering to Bones momentarily, "He's as good as dead!"

Pollux took aim.

Flynn shoved Rapunzel into the passenger side of the Charger, Maximus leaping in after her. Flynn rounded the car and took cover behind the open drivers side door, just as the arrow sprung off the string. It zoomed through the air and sunk into the metal door. Flynn jumped into the drivers seat as Pollux fitted another arrow.

Rapunzel was in the front seat, white faced and clutching Maximus to her chest. Pascal had moved to the back and stayed out of sight, but the grim expression on his face told Flynn that the boy had witnessed the whole encounter. Flynn put the car in reverse and twisted in his seat, watching out the back window as he reversed down the road. They didn't get far before another arrow hit the car, this time coming through the windshield and sinking into the dashboard. Rapunzel screamed and Flynn kept driving, maneuvering his way around burning debris. He flipped the car, and toggled the gear shift to drive. The car squealed on its wheels as the vehicle turned, the broad side of the car now facing Pollux, the character lines mockingly winking at him in the light of the fires that surrounded them. They were getting away.

Pollux grit his teeth and released on more arrow. It shot through the air but the distance was too great. It sunk, and by the time it made contact with the car, it only penetrated the rear wheel. Flynn hit the gas pedal and the car sped off down an alleyway, thumping on its handicapped wheel. Pascal sat on his knees and gazed out the back window at the Brother shrouded in smoke and fire. His gaze drifted to the figure on the ground with an arrow protruding from its chest, and his eyes burned with tears at the loss of his friend. The scene disappeared behind the brick wall of the alleyway as they drove off. Pascal turned back in his seat, wiping the silent tears from his cheeks.

Pollux yelled out. Flynn, that lucky, no good, morally oscillating son of a bitch, had escaped him again. Just when he thought he had that smug man trapped, he managed to evade Pollux's grasp just like the slippery, spineless eel that he was. Pollux turned and limped towards where he and Castor had parked the car a few blocks away. He'd pick up his brother and they would pick up Flynn's trail once again. Flynn couldn't run forever. One of these days, he was going to run out of luck and when that time came, Pollux and Castor would be ready.

The car shuttered as it sped down the road. Flynn reached up and ran his forehead along the sleeve of his jacket, whipping away the blood and sweat. He winced as the material on his jacket brushed the gash on his forehead. His lip was split and bleeding and the left side of his face felt swollen. His knuckles were raw and aching and there was a pain in his side. He glanced at Rapunzel, who looked shaken, but mostly unscathed.

The car rumbled on its flat tire. Flynn knew they wouldn't get far with a bad wheel. He glanced at Pascal in the rear view mirror. They needed a new ride and Flynn knew just the truck for the job.

"Where's the tanker?" he panted.

Pascal hesitated. "The junkyard."

Flynn and Rapunzel turned to look at the boy. Flynn glowered at him. "Why is it there?" he barked.

"We were going to take it apart. Sell what we could, take the weapons to the base, scavenge the rest," Pascal rambled, "But we never got a chance! It's still intact and drivable."

"Where's the junkyard?" Flynn asked, facing forward again.

"By the old penitentiary."

" _Pascal!_ " Rapunzel and Flynn both snapped in unison. His directions were less than helpful.

"Okay, okay!" Pascal replied and slid to the edge of his seat, leaning over the center console. He pointed ahead of them. "See where that radio tower is? Head that direction then take a left. That'll put you on the highway to the junkyard."

Flynn guided the car towards where Pascal was pointing. They emerged from the dark alley out onto the main street where they were greeted with more chaos. More blazes, more screaming, more gunfire. Another car came speeding down the road as the Charger pulled out of the alley, nicking the front of the car and sending Flynn, Rapunzel, Maximus and Pascal careening to the right. Flynn fought the steering wheel as the front of the Charger swung towards the brick wall of the side building. The front right wheel jammed against the eight inch lip of the sidewalk and stopped the car with a jolt.

"Ouch," Flynn said as they rocked back into place. He watched the driver of the other car. It was another Rider and one of Flynn's former War Dog comrades. He raced down the road, not slowing after almost sending the Charger into the alleyway wall. A shot rang out from the rooftops as one of Margot's sentries put a bullet in the Rider. The car he drove veered up onto the sidewalk and went crashing into one of the burning buildings.

So the Brothers had brought reinforcements.

He glanced out the spider webbed windshield at the damage done to the front headlight. He tested the wheel axle, which still seemed to be intact, as he pulled out onto the main road again. Between the flat tire, smashed front quarter, shattered windshield and the arrow jutting out of the dashboard, it was a wonder how the rusted car was still running.

They just needed to get a bit further. Flynn urged the car on and they turned onto the highway per Pascal's instructions moments later. On the outskirts of the city, it was eerily calm. There were no buildings to burn, no Riders on the road, and nothing but a quiet, black horizon in front of them. Margot's sanctuary felt like a lifetime away, but one glance into the side mirrors told a different story. They were barley two miles from the city—not far enough to be considered safe.

"There!" Pascal said suddenly. Flynn saw an old road sign, dented and yellowed from age, but still readable on some parts.

NORTHERN TERRITORY CORRECTIONAL SERVICES

There were more words, but Flynn couldn't make them out because the bottom half of the sign was gone. Beyond the sign the penitentiary had been razed to rubble; likely blown to smithereens during the old war. Nothing was left but a pile of mortar and concrete walls.

"Well that explains the storage units," Flynn said dryly.

Past the flattened jailhouse were mounds of garbage. In the dark, they looked like nothing more than small, rolling hills. Flynn took the Charger off road and weaved between the piles of discarded trash and stripped vehicles. The hulking, modified body of the tanker loomed at the base of one of the trash piles and as the lone headlight landed on the vehicle, Flynn couldn't help but grin. Glancing over at Rapunzel, he noticed that she wore a similar expression. He never thought he would be excited to see that tank of a truck, but once again it had proved to be his saving grace and he was grateful.

He hit the brakes on the Charger and they all climbed out, Flynn not even bothering to take the key out of the ignition. He glanced over his shoulder at the burning city they left behind. The smoke billowed and he could still hear the faint screams of women and the sounds of bullets raining down.

"Come on," he said, reaching a hand out and guiding Rapunzel towards the tanker. Maximus, like usual, was next to her and Pascal was climbing up into the passenger seat of the cabin. Flynn jogged after them. The sooner they put the sanctuary behind them, the better.

" _Rapunzel!_ "

Rapunzel skidded to a stop and wheeled around. She knew that voice, shrill and demanding. One of the last times she heard it, it was snapping at her for asking about the City of Lights. _"You are not leaving his place! Ever!"_ the voice had said and it was the last time Rapunzel ever brought up the topic of Corona.

From behind a mound of garbage, a frizzy haired woman appeared. She wore an old pair of cargo pants and work boots. She had a maroon hooded winder breaker pushed up at the sleeves and a black shirt under that. There was something attached to her belt, what looked like a clip point hunting knife, but in the limited visibility Flynn couldn't be sure.

"Mother?" Rapunzel said breathlessly.

Flynn went to the tanker and jumped up into the cabin. The rucksack and duffle bag were in the back, their contents strewn all over the floor. Laying across the front seat was his switchblade and shotgun. When he picked up the gun, feeling the familiar weight in his hand, he no longer felt powerless. It's what separated the living from the dead in a place like the wasteland; whoever held the weapon held the power. He fumbled two bullets from the box of ammo on the floor of the cabin, loaded the side by side and locked it into place.

"Who is that?" Pascal asked from the back seat, hands buried in Maximus's fur for comfort.

"Stay here." was Flynn's only reply. He swung around and pointed at gun at Gothel, leaning slightly out of the cabin but keeping one hand on the interior roll cage to steady himself.

He had barely spoken two words to the woman, and Rapunzel had only mentioned her to him a few times, but if anyone was riding with the Riders, they were bad news and not to be trusted. Flynn didn't like Gothel showing up like this, it was devious and uncanny. He would know. He was both of those things.

The older woman didn't flinch when he drew his gun. She looked at him lazily, mouth turned down in a frown.

"Put that away boy," she said evenly, "You're going to hurt yourself."

She turned her attention back to her daughter and smiled, taking a few steps closer to Rapunzel, who stood frozen in place, eyes wide. Flynn could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the tension in her shoulders. She wasn't relieved to be seeing her mother, but she wasn't frightened either. It seemed she was too shocked to make sense of what she was seeing.

So Flynn made sense for her.

"Rapunzel, let's go," he barked. She didn't move.

"How did you—?" Rapunzel started, but let the question hang in the air like the smoke over their heads.

"How did I find you?" Gothel finished for her with another step closer. "Oh, it was easy really. I just listened to the sound of complete and utter betrayal and followed that."

"But I—"

Gothel closed the distance between them and reached a hand up to brush her fingers through Rapunzel's golden hair. "Look at you!" she sighed, "My little sunflower. You look as though you've been through hell, and by the looks of it—" Gothel glanced over her shoulder at the city behind them, "—you have. You're a mess!"

Her hand dropped from Rapunzel's hair to her wrist. "We're going home, Rapunzel. Now."

Her voice was gentle, but commanding. She turned and tugged Rapunzel after her, who yanked her hand away before Gothel could persuade a step out of her.

"No!" she said forcefully.

Gothel turned back, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh?" she asked.

"I can't go back with you," Rapunzel said but all confidence had left her voice. "We're going to Corona."

Gothel rolled her eyes. "Rapunzel, please! This is demented! I've said it before and I'll say it again, there is no such thing as the City of Lights. You've invented a place in your mind to escape the reality that is yours. Our home, our garage, the bar, the Tower, that is your reality! That is where you are needed!"

Gothel's voice grew shrill as she took Rapunzel's hands in her again. Flynn almost flinched. He had said the exact words to Rapunzel a few days ago. Now that he was hearing them from someone else's mouth, he realized how harsh they sounded. How could he have been so insensitive?

"Listen to me Rapunzel, you've had your little adventure, you've tasted what life is like beyond the Canyonlands. How can you say it's any better out here? It's frightening and dangerous. If the quicksand doesn't get you, the vultures will. And if not the vultures, then the Prowlers! Don't you see? It's just a vicious cycle of suffering. That's all that happens in the wasteland: suffering." When Rapunzel didn't reply, Gothel continued. "But if you come with me, if you come home, I promise to make everything better. We'll be safe and we'll make enough money fixing cars to support ourselves. We can put this whole extravaganza behind us and forget it ever happened. It will be like it was before."

Flynn couldn't see Rapunzel's face properly, but he saw her duck her head and step closer to her mother. He grit his teeth. Gothel was manipulating her and it was working. He did not come back to Margot's city to rescue Rapunzel, only to have her voluntarily walk away from him after being swayed by Gothel's words.

"Rapunzel don't listen to her!" he yelled. "She lying! Remember what you told me!"

Gothel's steely gaze snapped to him momentarily, glaring daggers that made even his thick skin crawl. Rapunzel seemed to snap out of her trance and Flynn watched her take another step back. Gothel turned back to her daughter, features softening, mouth curling into a smile and gripping her hands a bit tighter.

"If you won't come back for me, then maybe you'll come back for them," she nodded her head towards the sanctuary. "Those people back there are in trouble because those Riders are looking for you. Come with me, and I'll call them off. We'll leave the city and no one else will get hurt."

She said the wrong thing. Rapunzel's eyes flashed and she jerked her hands free once again. She stepped back, closer to Flynn and the eighteen wheeler.

"Why did you make a deal with the Riders?" she said slowly.

"Because we had a common interest," Gothel replied, matching Rapunzel's tone. Gothel was cornered, but she showed no fear. "We're both looking for our runaways." She paused and her eyes flickered to Flynn again. They were hard and full of hate. He was responsible for Rapunzel's escape. It was his fault Gothel lost her daughter and the best mechanic she had ever seen.

"But why _them_?" Rapunzel asked, a note of desperation making her voice rise an octave. "You hate the Riders! Don't you remember what they did to us? Those months of _wanting_ them to show up and do some damage, so that when they left at least we knew that we would be alive for another few weeks? Or those days of hard work and sleepless nights trying to earn a living only to have every cent we ever made taken away from us?"

"We came to an agreement," Gothel replied. "After I dug Castor and Pollux out, we contacted the other Riders and had a rendezvous at the garage. I told them that if we brought you back along with _him_ —" Gothel pointed an accusing finger at Flynn, "—then we would split the petroleum from the Tower fifty fifty. We're their allies now, there's no need to be afraid of them anymore."

Rapunzel's hands shook by her side. She retreated another step. Flynn's arm was beginning to ache from keeping his shotgun raised, but he kept his aim steady. He stepped down from the tanker and moved to Rapunzel, reaching out and taking her arm gently.

"Rapunzel," he murmured, "We need to go."

"What happened to Slit and Grinner? Vladimir? Bruiser?" Rapunzel asked.

"I left those traitors rotting in the Canyonlands. They're no longer under our employment."

"They were my friends," Rapunzel said and Gothel laughed.

"Please Rapunzel, those low lives were there for a job and only a job. We don't need them anymore. By the time we get back home, they'll have packed up and moved on."

Rapunzel shook her head disbelievingly. They were running out of time. Pollux and Castor would be on their trail soon, even sooner if Gothel was working for them like she said. Flynn took Rapunzel's hand in his and pulled her towards the tanker. She followed him on shaky limbs, climbing up into the passenger seat. Flynn looked over his shoulder to see Gothel standing in the same spot, watching them with venom in her eyes. He rounded the tanker, tossed his gun into the cabin and climbed in.

"You'll regret this!" Gothel shouted over the roar of the two thousand pound diesel engine firing up. "You'll see that I was right all along, and when that time comes don't come crying to me!"

Flynn glanced at Rapunzel who was looking out the window blanched faced. His gaze slid to Gothel, who was glaring at them furiously. He put the vehicle into gear and the tanker kicked forward. They tumbled over the ground and back onto the highway, heading south and leaving the Brothers, Margot's sanctuary, and Gothel all in the rear view window.

Gothel watched them drive away, hands shaking with anger.

If that Rider hadn't been with Rapunzel then maybe she would have been able to convince her to come back. She had spent the last few days manipulating, making deals, and offering promises she couldn't keep in order to secure her future and bring Rapunzel home. When the Brothers' motorcycles were too damaged to repair, who had suggested they take the yellow Mustang while she follow in the Datsun? Gothel. Who had offered the rest of the Riders a deal on petroleum when they initially refused to help her? Gothel. And who wasn't going to stop until she saw Flynn dead and her little sunflower back where she belonged? Gothel.

She smiled a bit. It would all work out in time, she knew it would. She just needed to be patient.


	9. Back on the Road

**Back on the Road**

They drove for miles through suffocating darkness. Or at least that's what it felt like. Flynn refused to turn on the floodlights of the tanker because it would only present a target for the Brothers, Gothel and the rest of the Riders to follow. He drove slower, trying to feel his way along the highway. It was hard, considering there were so many cracks and potholes along the road that it was hard to tell the difference between asphalt and dirt. Thankfully, the highway had rumble strips still functioning so he could feel when they veered off too far, and the moon and stars offered _some_ light so as long as Flynn concentrated, he could keep the tanker on a predominately straight course south.

They would turn west again once day broke and they had put enough distance between them and the Riders.

Flynn's head was spinning. He looked over at Rapunzel and Pascal to see how they were faring. Rapunzel had tall tale signs of tears streaks on her cheeks, but Flynn hadn't heard her sniffle since they left the junkyard. She stared out the window numbly. Her blonde hair was a mess again. Pascal had been silent the whole drive, wearing a similar expression of despondency. Flynn realized, with a pang of guilt, that Pascal had seen his friend die and had no idea if his mother was alive or not. He must be frightened. He sat in the back, head drooping and eyes blinking slowly. He must also be exhausted. They all were. His head bobbed and within minutes Pascal was curled over with his head in Maximus's back. Maximus laid calmly across the leather seat, and Flynn realized that as much as he hated the animal, he owed Maximus his life. If the dog hadn't attacked Pollux, Flynn wasn't sure he would've been able to get away.

Flynn sighed. The tanker pulled to the right, dropped slightly, and Flynn felt the buzz of the rumble strips. He slowed and corrected the vehicle.

"We shouldn't have left," Rapunzel said. Her voice was raw.

"What?"

"The sanctuary," she said, "All those people. Margot and Bones…they helped us and we abandoned them."

Flynn reached up and tenderly dabbed at the cut on his head with the sleeve of his jacket. He winced. It stung and would not seem to stop bleeding. He sighed.

"Rapunzel, we helped them by leaving," he said, "Pollux and Castor and the rest of those guys were looking for us. They would have torn that city apart if we had stayed. They've likely gathered the war party, left the city, and are headed after us right now. If we're on the move then so are they."

Rapunzel shook her head, a new wave of tears threatening to spill over.

"We did that to them Flynn," she said and glanced over her shoulder at Pascal. "We brought mother and the Riders to the city."

"We didn't know Rapunzel. We both saw that arch fall, we thought they were dead. There's nothing we could have done to stop them."

In the few short days since knowing Rapunzel, she had been an annoyingly cheerful and optimistic person. But now she sat in the passenger seat, looking dejected, unsure and absolutely sick to her stomach. Flynn felt terrible. Rapunzel and Pascal had been unknowingly sucked into his turbulent life. If they had any idea what they were getting themselves into, would they have been so willing to come with him in the first place? He seriously doubted it.

He couldn't allow himself to dwell on the guilt. Rapunzel was doing it enough for the both of them, and feeling sorry for what happened wasn't going to change the past. Even so, Flynn felt a pain of regret as he glanced in the rear view mirror at Pascal's sleeping form. Margot had been kind to them, despite his refusal to accept the fact, and Bones had protected Rapunzel when he wasn't there to help her. Hell, Bones had given his _life_ trying to save Rapunzel. Flynn banished the thoughts of the sanctuary people with a shake of his head. He had long since learned to ignore the painful nagging of guilt. It only slowed him down, made him question himself. Right now their focus had to be on staying alive, now that they knew the Brothers were alive and after them.

"You _left_ us."

Flynn looked at Rapunzel. Her bloodshot eyes were hard and her mouth set in a determined line. Tear tracks lined her dirty face and he saw the bitterness of loathing tainting her gaze. She was angry at him, but not the explosive kind of angry…not yet at least. The seething kind, where she was waiting for an explanation, something to reassure her that her initial speculation behind his disappearance was wrong.

But she wasn't wrong. He had left because he wanted to.

"I know," was the only reply Flynn could manage out. He rolled down the cabin window and spat out a mouthful of blood on saliva on the side of the road. He turned to look at her again, but Rapunzel's hand came across and slapped him hard on the face.

Flynn should have known it was coming, he deserved it after all, but the shock of the slap sent his head pounding anew and he jerked the wheel of the tanker as he flinched. He corrected quickly, moving off the rumble strips just in time for Rapunzel's hand to make contact with his shoulder.

"How—could you—do—that—to me!" she screamed, punctuating each word with a hard slap to Flynn's head, neck or arm. Just about any place on him she could reach with the restriction of her seatbelt. "To us!"

Flynn tightened his hands on the wheel but ducked his head slightly as she boxed his ear.

 _"We had a deal!"_

She whacked him again and Flynn concentrated on keeping the tanker straight so he didn't lash out and slap her back.

"I know!" he snapped. "I'm sorry!"

Rapunzel's hits came more frequently but they were losing their vigor. She was crying now, tears of frustration and maybe a bit of hysteria. Flynn took the beating as best he could, knowing that she needed to get it out of her system. She had just seen her manipulative, and maybe even abusive, mother reappear in her life after attempting to run away from her in the first place. She watched an ally die by cross brow and woke up to find her accomplice up and abandoned her in the middle of the night. He knew why she was lashing out.

"Jesus Rapunzel!" Flynn snapped as she slapped him again. He stopped the tanker, put it in park, unbuckled and turned to Rapunzel.

So much for not lashing out.

She raised her hand and he caught her wrist midair before she could strike him again. The other hand was harder grasp as she fought him, but he eventually got hold of it and wrestled both arms against her body, pinning her wrists to her chest to restrain her.

"I came back!" Flynn yelled. _"I came back for you!"_

It seemed to snap her out of her episode. She looked at him with wide, tear filled eyes that registered shock and Flynn realized it was the first time he had yelled at her out of anger. He'd been mean to her plenty of times, sure, but never raised his voice he just had. She stared at him. Flynn was bent over her, and he slowly released her wrists to make sure she wasn't going to slap him again. She didn't. He sighed and lowered himself back into the drivers seat, drained and aching. He braced one elbow on the window and rubbed his head with the tips of his fingers, frustrated that he had reacted the way he had, yet knowing it was probably for the best. Rapunzel would have worked herself into a fit if hadn't done something. His hand came away red from the cut on his head. He was shaking slightly, and he felt dizzy. Rapunzel took a few shaking breaths, the last of her fear and anger subsiding enough for her to regain some control. She hiccupped, repercussions from the emotional outburst.

She slumped in her seat.

"I'm sorry," he sighed again, gently this time.

Save for the soft rumble of the engine, and the occasional hiccup or sniffle from Rapunzel, the cabin was dead quiet until Pascal spoke

Flynn and Rapunzel's shouting must have woken him up. He sat up in the backseat next to Maximus. Both of them were looking between Flynn and Rapunzel curiously.

"Do you two usually fight like this?" Pascal asked with a raised eyebrow.

Rapunzel and Flynn both looked at him, then each other.

Rapunzel huffed out would could apprehensively be called a laugh. It sounded more like a mix between a choke and a sob, but lighter. He couldn't understand why she was laughing. One moment she was in tears and lashing out at the nearest thing—him—and the next she was laughing between hiccups. He wasn't sure if this was still hysteria, or full blown madness. Maybe it was grieving. Either way it was freaky.

Rapunzel reached up and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She sniffed again and took a breath, seeming to come back to her normal self. She looked at Flynn. Her gaze was soft, apologetic.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I don't know why I did that." She took another deep breath. "I just…it scared me when I woke up and didn't know where you were…"

"It's fine," Flynn said, but it came out a bit muffled. What was wrong with him? He felt so sluggish and weak. He sat up straighter. They had wasted enough time fighting. They had to get moving again if they wanted to stay ahead of the Brothers. "Let's just forget it, okay? I promised to get you to Corona in exchange for this ride and I intent to keep my end of the deal. I shouldn't have left, you're right. I just…got scared."

His apology almost mirrored hers and it seemed like they both had things to purge. Flynn had to remind himself that he wasn't the only one suffering here. He just couldn't believe that the Brothers were back. He had been so close, _so close_ , to freedom but he had been stupid to think that he could escape his past. Not only had the Brothers returned, but they had come back with reinforcements. If he thought escape before was tricky, this time it would be impossible. How long could they continue this deadly chase of cat and mouse? Flynn wasn't sure, but he had a terrible feeling that the he was the mouse and the outcome was not in his favor. Which also brought up the question of Rapunzel's and Pascal's fates. Being merciful was not something the Brothers were known for, and if Flynn was recaptured and taken back to the Compound, there was a good chance that neither of them would survive.

They were all reeling from the attack on the city. There was no other way to go from here other than west, to Corona, if that place even existed. Pascal was along for the ride now, whether he wanted to be or not and as much as Flynn hated to admit it, they were a team now. He needed them as much as they needed him, just like Margot had said. He didn't want to be dependent on other people and vice versa; that kind of relationship only brought heartache and trouble, but there was no way about it now. The three of them, four including Maximus, had to make it work if they wanted to survive the wasteland and escape Gothel and the Brothers.

Flynn sighed.

"We need to get moving," he said and dropped his shaking hand to the steering wheel. He took a deep breath and went to twist the key in the ignition, but stars were suddenly blurring his vision.

"Flynn?" Rapunzel asked and her voice was laced with worry. "You're pale. Flynn, what's wrong?"

Her voice seemed far away and Flynn struggled to focus, trying to reach for her and make sense of what she was saying. He turned, hand outstretched, but the flashes of light in his peripheral vision were growing more sporadic. His head swam and he could hear Maximus barking frantically. His body went limp and his consciousness soon followed until he had blacked out completely.

He was dreaming, he was certain of it, because he was six years old again and at the orphanage.

 _He was sleeping in his cot, or rather pretending to be asleep, while Favorite made her rounds for the night to check on the boys. He discreetly rolled over to look at the boy across from him, but he was sound asleep like the rest. He huffed a sigh and waited until the caretaker had left, softly closing the door behind her, before he kicked the blankets off his bed and sat up. He wasn't tired for some reason tonight; probably still excited from watching Captain Blood. Favorite had an old projector and a collection of black and white movies she would sometimes let the orphans watch. Eugene always voted for Captain Blood to be played, since he could recite the movie word for word and knew that one day he would grow up to be just like Errol Flynn. He would never be poor in the wasteland, he would never be lonely, and he would never let the bad guys win._

 _He climbed out of bed and pulled a wooden sword from under his mattress. It was crudely carved from a birch tree that grew outside the orphanage, and Favorite had been furious when she found out Eugene had whittled it down with a kitchen knife, but it served its purpose until Eugene could get his hands on a real sword like Errol Flynn's. Being as quiet as possible, Eugene took a few practice swings with it._

 _There was a crash somewhere at the other end of the orphanage. Eugene froze, thinking that he was caught for sure. Favorite would take away his sword and make him go straight to bed, he was certain of it. There was a scream and his heart started beating rapidly. Something wasn't right. He looked at the boy sleeping in the cot across from him, and Eugene reached over and prodded him with his sword._

 _"Hey!" the kid grumbled but before he could say anything more the door to the room flew open with a bang and chaos erupted. Men in leather jackets and makeshift armor poured into the room, shouting and brandishing guns, the back of their necks singed with some type of wicked looking symbol. They rushed the room like a dammed river. The boys shot up in their beds and began screaming and running. They kicked an screamed as they were snatched up by the men and tossed around like sacks of flour. Eugene clutched the wooden sword in his hand tighter._

 _Be like Flynn! Be like Flynn!_

 _He chanted to himself as he ran at one of men, swinging the sword with all his might. The wooden weapon smacked against the mans helmeted head and splintered into pieces. Eugene watched, frozen with fear as the Rider slowly turned and grinned at him from beneath and white beard._

 _"You're quite the fighter, little man," the old man said in a deep rumbling voice. He reached his hand towards Eugene who screamed and screamed and screamed as darkness closed in around him._

Flynn screamed again.

"Should we wake him?"

"No, trust me, it's better to just let him dream."

"It sounds terrible."

"I know."

"Will he make it?"

"I think so. The bleedings stopped…"

The voices spoke softly but sounded loud against his tender ears. He wanted to open his eyes but he was so exhausted even that small amount of effort proved difficult. It felt like the muscles in his body had been replaced with lead. He tried to speak, to ask for water, but his tongue and throat felt too raw and swollen. He felt a familiar dizzying sensation again, and his muscles went weak like all the strength was being drained from his body. He didn't remember much after that.

He wasn't sure how long he was out for, but when he came to again, he could open his eyes. It was twilight, and he was sprawled across the bench seat of the tanker. His head was resting on something soft, helping relieve the tension in his neck. His back was a series of tightly coiled muscles, and he shifted to make himself more comfortable. He felt better, but not great. He blinked a few times and looked up towards the back of the drivers seat. A tuff of green hair poked over the leather headrest, and Flynn wondered if Pascal was even tall enough to see over the dashboard of the mighty eighteen wheeler. His gazed drifted to the passenger seat where the brown and black speckled ears of Maximus were pointed attentively at the window.

Flynn groaned quietly and rolled over and that was when he realized that someone had their fingers in his hair. His head was resting on Rapunzel's thigh and he looked up to see her gazing at him worriedly. Her eyebrows rose in surprise when Flynn looked up at her. Her weather worn lips split into a wide grin.

"You're awake!" she said.

Flynn, still finding it hard to speak, just nodded his head. He blinked slowly.

Rapunzel sighed. "You've been out cold for almost eighteen hours. You started losing a lot of blood from that cut on your head, and I think you just pushed your body too far…you passed out and went limp and you wouldn't wake up," her voice grew softer as she spoke. Flynn felt like she was telling a story about someone else; there was no way he had been out for eighteen hours. He had been driving just moments ago. Her fingers raked through his hair and it felt good. He closed his eyes. "I wrapped your head and Pascal and I moved you to the back seat then Pascal took over driving while you slept. We camped after a few hours of driving and then left again early this morning. You've been in and out of consciousness the last few hours."

Flynn reached up and tenderly touched his head. His fingers brushed fabric that wound around his head.

"Water?" he asked hoarsely.

Pascal rummaged around in the front seat and passed back a canteen. Rapunzel twisted the cap off and helped Flynn sit up so he could drink. He grunted as he pulled himself into a sitting position. He felt stiff and awkward, but not nearly as exhausted as he had been the last few days. He sighed as Rapunzel passed him the water.

"Lookin' good handsome," Pascal teased from the front seat. Flynn glanced at his reflection in the review mirror, which was most definitely, not handsome. Once again he was camouflaged in red dirt and dried sweat and his eyes were bloodshot. The wrap on his head had turned brown from the blood. He met Pascal's gaze in the mirror and glared at him before taking a drink.

"Eighteen hours you said?" Flynn said and looked down at Rapunzel seated next to him. She nodded. "And the Brothers?"

"I think we lost them," Rapunzel replied.

"Have we turned west yet?"

"About five hours ago," Rapunzel answered.

Flynn nodded and leaned his head back against the head rest. He closed his eyes, hands limply resting on his legs. He had seen a lot in the last twenty or so years of his life; but nothing could have prepared him for the last forty eight hours, excluding the time he spent unconscious. It's no wonder his body gave up on him like it did.

"I think we should pull over," Rapunzel said gently, her voice laced with concern. "We've been driving enough as it is. We could all use a break."

For once, Flynn didn't argue with her. A burning fire, some food and a few hours of sleep under the stars sounded just fine to him. There was so much to be worried about right now, but Flynn would just have to deal with that at a later time. For now, he just wanted to rest, knowing that for the time being, they were all okay. If he had to be on the run with two people he couldn't think of better, more infuriating, comforting people to be with.


	10. An Overdue Confession

**An Overdue Confession**

They pulled off the road when Pascal pointed out the towering shadow of a sandstone butte. It was the perfect place to park and rest for the night. If they slept at the base of the butte, then they wouldn't have to worry about watching their backs the entire night. Plus, the high sandstone acted as a barrier to the ceaseless wind that blew across the desert.

While Flynn started on a fire, Rapunzel set to work taking inventory. Margot and her people had looted the weapons stash from the back seat and the food was all gone, but there was still some extra stores of water and the frying pan left, along with Flynn's sawed off shotgun and from ammunition. The Volkswagen turret off the back was in working condition and the flame throwers didn't seem to be tampered with. Same for the caltrops and cow catcher off the front of the cabin. The dagger hidden in the gear shift had been taken apart and the gasoline that was stored in the tanker had been diminished considerably. There was enough for half a dozen refills but they would have to find another source of petrol quickly if they wanted to keep driving and Rapunzel had no idea how long it would take them to get to Corona. The war rig ran well enough, but the buildup of sand on the wheels and in the grill was taking its toll. She set to cleaning out the debris.

Flynn had the fire crackling and spitting when Pascal walked over and asked if he could climb the butte.

Flynn glanced behind him at the large sandstone formation. "I'll give you twenty bucks if you make it to the top."

Pascal's eyes widened and he ran towards the butte. Maximus bounded after him, barking. Flynn watched the green haired boy go, the corner of his lips pulling up in amusement.

"Is that I smile?"

Rapunzel's voice was teasing and light as she approached and it was enough to make Flynn wipe the smirk from his face.

"No."

"I think it was."

"It wasn't."

Rapunzel gave him a knowing look, her eyes mischievous in the firelight. She came and stood next to him, turning to gaze at the fire. She had zipped up her khaki mechanic coveralls against the chilling night air and left her blonde hair down. Flynn realized that it went all the way to her hips. He watched as she stared into the flames, her smile falling steadily until she was almost frowning. Something was troubling her mind, and though it wasn't hard to guess what, Rapunzel usually volunteered this information whether Flynn wanted to hear it or not. Tonight, she was surprisingly quiet.

He was most likely going to regret asking his next question.

"So, you're being strangely cryptic," he said, "Something on your mind?"

Rapunzel turned her face away from him. Her voice was small.

"I just…can't believe my mother would do something like this. I always knew she was shellfish but to make a deal with the Riders and to do what she did to the ruffians after they helped us? It just seems so…so…"

"Evil?"

"I was going to say malicious," Rapunzel mumbled. She dropped to her knees in the sand, burying her face in her hands out of shame. "I just never thought she would do something like this. She used to tell me stories about the Riders and the outside world and what a terrible place it was. It made the garage seem like such a safe haven, but I'm realizing now that the real danger _was her_. Her poisonous words and her deception…it's no wonder I always wanted to run away."

Flynn sighed and slowly lowered himself down next to her. He sat cross legged and reached an arm around Rapunzel's shoulder. She dropped her hands and leaned into him, and the close contact made Flynn stiffen. He lowered his arm, but she did not pull away from him.

"I just don't know what to think anymore, or who to trust, or what to do. Corona was my hope for so long, but even that seems like a faraway dream now," she sighed. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this Flynn."

"You didn't drag me into anything, we made a deal," Flynn reminded her. "And so what if Corona is only a dream? At least it's something to hold onto, something to keep you going."

There was a long silence. Flynn felt like he should say more, but he didn't know what else there was. He carefully looked down at her head resting against his shoulder. Her cheek felt warm and the small hairs on the top of her head fluttered with his breath.

"What keeps you going?" she asked.

Flynn turned to look at the fire. He didn't have to think about the answer, it was instantaneous, but he had a hard time forming the word.

"Freedom," he eventually replied.

Rapunzel sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. She glanced at him.

"Freedom from the Riders?"

Flynn nodded. "And myself."

"What do you mean?"

Flynn glanced down at the sand, tracing his fingers over the small granules. "I feel like I've done so many horrible things and I don't know if I can ever come back from it. Even if I was forgiven for everything, the guilt and the shame that follows is enough to drive me mad."

"Everyone deserves redemption," Rapunzel said.

Flynn snorted. "Not me."

Another silence settled over them. Flynn picked up and handful of sand and slowly released it, watching it tumble over his fingers onto the ground again.

"I grew up in an orphanage," Flynn started. He wasn't sure why he was telling her this, but he figured it was about time she knew the truth about him. She had revealed to him almost everything about her life. Now it was his turn. "There weren't very many of us, maybe thirty kids total, all ages and genders. There was a caretaker there named Favorite—I don't know if that was her real name, but she was everyone's favorite so it suited her—and she had this old projector we would hook up to the generator and watch movies on. You could barely hear the movie over the noise the generator made, but we loved it. I always asked to watch _Captain Blood_."

Rapunzel snorted and Flynn shot her a look.

"Laugh all you want, but my six year old self loved that movie. The main character was a swashbuckling rouge, the richest man alive and not bad with the ladies either. Not that he would ever brag about it, of course. He was the hero of the story. And for a kid with nothing…I don't know. It just seemed like the better option. I watched that movie until I had it memorized and I vowed that one day I would be just like Errol Flynn."

He glanced at Rapunzel, who was watching him intently. He cleared his throat.

"One night, Riders ransacked the orphanage looking for recruits. They burst into our rooms and began snatching the boys up and dragging them outside. I tried fighting off an old Rider but he was three times my size and I had never been so scared in my life. They took us to the Compound in the middle of the night. I never knew what happened to Favorite and the other orphans," Flynn said. "The Rider that kidnapped me was called Snowman. He was a military type man and a lot of the Riders respected him. He took a liking to me for some reason. He showed me how to use my double barrel and taught me how to drive and fight. He was like a father to me."

"The Riders have this…initiation," Flynn continued, brushing his hands together slowly to remove the sand. "You a pick a new alias and you're branded on the back of the neck with the Rider symbol and then you're considered an official Rider. Once that happened, we were given a car and allowed to go on raids. Snowman was ruthless, and even though I loved him like a father, I didn't want to be like him. I didn't want to be a Rider. So I chose the name Flynn because I never wanted to say goodbye to that little boy who dreamed of being a better man. It was a way to hold onto that piece of myself so the Riders couldn't take it away. A way to keep me human."

Flynn felt the hot burn of tears as his eyes began to water. He scrubbed his eyes with his fingertips, rubbing away the tears. He sighed.

"Snowman grew old and it was clear that he wasn't going to be around for much longer. I knew his end was coming and I knew that he would want me to command the Riders after him. Pollux and Castor didn't like that. They never liked me because Snowman favored me even though they had been with the Riders longer than I had. I didn't want to be the one to lead so I did what I do best; I ran. Except, everyone knows you can run from the Riders. Once you're a Rider, you're a Rider till you die. Who better to track me down than the very men who have wanted to kill me since they first met me?"

Flynn looked at Rapunzel. Her eyes were wet and her brows were furrowed with a look of pity. Flynn wasn't looking for her sympathy, but he did want her to understand his life. Now, there were no secrets between them and the massive weight that had been sitting on Flynn's shoulders suddenly seemed a little lighter.

"I've never told anyone that before," Flynn said when she didn't say anything.

Rapunzel carefully reached her fingers up towards his face, hesitated, then dropped her hand back to her knees.

"I'm glad you told me," Rapunzel said. Her voice was soft and understanding. "Before you changed your name to Flynn…" she started.

Flynn looked down at the ground and smiled, shaking his head. He knew what she was asking. "The only way I will ever tell you my real name is if I'm on my last breath."

Rapunzel gave a flicker of a smile. The Flynn she knew, callous and unfeeling, was back. At least the part of him that pretended to be hard hearted so no one knew what he was actually feeling or thinking. Now she knew there was more to him than just sarcasm and pessimism, and she understood why he shut himself out from people's lives the way he did. They sat together in silence until footsteps crunched behind them. They both looked over at Pascal and Maximus who had returned from the butte. Pascal was covered in a fine layer of sand.

Flynn grinned. "Did you slip and fall?" he asked.

Pascal glowered at him and said, "Got halfway up then took a misstep and rolled right to the bottom. Have we got anything to eat?" He plopped down in the dirt next to them, shaking the sand out of his hair.

"No," Rapunzel said apologetically. She waved away the cloud of dust that had come off Pascal.

"I can try and hunt something tomorrow morning," Flynn said. "It's too late to see anything now. We should just try and get some rest."

Rapunzel went to the truck and retrieved two blankets. She shared one with Pascal then handed the other to Flynn. He spread the wool blanket out and laid down on top of it, Rapunzel and Pascal settling down a few feet away from him. He reached up and ripped the gauze on his head, unwrapping his wound to let it breath. He took a deep breath and tried to relax on the hard earth. He felt good tonight, calm, like for once he wasn't worrying about looking over his shoulder. They weren't out of the clear, Flynn knew that, but tonight he couldn't seem to trouble himself with their predicament. It was a feeling he hadn't had felt in a long time, and glancing at Rapunzel and Pascal he wondered if they were the reason he felt this way; like he was finally in the right place at the right time. He didn't linger on the thought too long because sleep was on him quickly and for the first night in a very long time, he wasn't plagued with nightmares.

When he woke a few hours later, the morning sun was minutes from rising, and the dessert was bathed in grey and purple. He stretched, sore from the rough ground, and glanced over at Rapunzel, Pascal and Maximus, who were all snoozing quietly on top of each other. Flynn got up, a sharp pain in his stomach a reminder of how long it had been since his last meal. He stalked over to the tanker, running a hand over his face to wake himself up.

He needed a shave.

He pulled out his shotgun from the floor of the cabin and pocketed a few rounds. He waked back over to the sleeping pile that was his friends, nudging Maximus with his boot.

"Max," he murmured, trying not to wake Rapunzel and Pascal, "Come."

The dog lifted his head, ears pointed, and watched Flynn curiously. After a few minutes, the dog jumped up and followed him, tail wagging.

His gun in his thigh holster, Flynn tracked over the sand in search of something to eat. His weapon was hardly suitable for hunting, but if he could catch something small and at close range, then they could get lucky. Birds were ideal and likely the most abundant, a rabbit would be good but the little devils were fast and a wild dog was out of the questions since Flynn would have to shoot it point blank to kill it and there was no way he was getting that close to a dingo. He glanced at Maximus.

"Any chance you were bred to hunt?" he asked. Maximus's tail swung lazily in response. "Didn't think so. Worthless mutt."

Flynn patted the dogs head and they continued on.

A few minutes later and Maximus stopped, pointing his speckled muzzle towards the sky, sniffing and watching a large kite that glided overhead. Flynn looked up at the bird and drew his gun, trailing it across the sky. It circled overhead slowly, and Flynn silently will it closer to them. They had no such luck. The bird swooped wide then took off in the opposite direction.

Maximus trotted ahead to sniff around sage brush and Flynn glanced around. The sun was slowly rising over the horizon, doing away with the grey morning and fading into a bright dawn. He sighed. The land was as barren as it looked and Flynn wasn't sure if he was going find anything for them eat. If he couldn't shoot anything, they would have to drive until they found and abandoned town that hopefully had some resources left. The chances they would find food in a place like that was slim, and Flynn wasn't eager to stumble upon another city, but it might be their only option. He looked behind him at the butte to judge his distance, not wanting to wander too far off from his company.

Flynn saw movement out of the corner of his eye and didn't hesitate this time, knowing he only had a few seconds before the jack rabbit would be out of range. A blur of brown fur raced across the sand towards a burrow and Flynn took a shot. A geyser of dust erupted from the ground just in front of the animal. The rabbit startled then pivoted and ran the other direction. Flynn aimed again and pulled the trigger and the rabbit went down with a wail. Maximus bounded over the animal, sniffing excitedly. Flynn picked it up by its long legs and they started back towards the camp.

Rapunzel had cleaned up what little provision they had drug out during the night. She was at the tanker, attaching a long hose from the main compartment under the tanker, to the gas tank on the cabin. She secured the hose, then flipped the valve switch next to the compartment. There was a soft hissing nose as petrol flowed from the hose to the tank as Rapunzel waited. Flynn glanced at Pascal as he and Maximus approached. Pascal was positioning himself over the fire, preparing to put out the hot coals. Flynn swung the dead rabbit around and it hit Pascal in the stomach. The boy huffed and caught the animal, glaring at Flynn.

"Not yet kid," he said, "Breakfast first. Then you can pee on the fire."

Rapunzel walked over to them.

"You got something," she said and the mild surprise in her voice grated on Flynn's nerves. "It's a little small…"

"It's the best I can do until we find some real food."

Rapunzel looked at him and gave him a gentle smile, shrugging her shoulders. "Does anyone know how skin a rabbit?" she asked. She looked at Flynn expectantly, who just shook his head. Riders needed didn't survival skills—they pillaged whatever they needed from travelers and decaying towns. Pascal rolled his eyes, holding the rabbit up by its feet.

"I'll take care of it," he grumbled.

Flynn retrieved the switchblade from the tanker, noting their dwindling supplies. They weren't going to get very far on a few canteens of water and a frying pan. They would have to find some place to resupply and soon.

Pascal set to skinning the rabbit with the switchblade while Rapunzel finished tuning the tanker and Flynn worked on rebuilding the fire. He glanced over at Pascal every few minutes, who worked quietly and carefully, brow scrunched in concentration. He stuck his tongue out as he worked, pulling the skin from the body and sawing the feet off. Within a few minutes, they were gathered around a crackling fire, watching the green haired boy rotate the rabbit on a makeshift spit. The fire hissed every time fat dripped onto the flames. Flynn licked his lips.

He glanced at Rapunzel, who was scratching Maximus behind the ear. Then at Pascal. When he left the Compound he wasn't sure what was going to happen to him, but he never expected to have such mismatched traveling companions and a destination that may or may not exist. It wasn't an ideal situation, but at least he wasn't a dead man.

Then there was last night. There was a reason he kept that story from people. He hated reliving the memories and when he heard himself recounting his hellish experience, he could feel the beast inside in mind rearing its ugly head. He spent years cultivating his thoughts to keep himself from looking back on the orphanage, and last night was the first time he voluntarily revisited his memories. His thoughts were unleashed and the chaos they created was overwhelming. At least that's how he thought it would be, because that's how it usually was, and that was the reason he never talked about it. Talking with Rapunzel was different though. It was always a struggle bringing to light his dark memories, but once everything was out in the open, that was it. The words just disappeared instead of plaguing his mind until he was exhausted by them. He felt at ease, he maybe even willing to say peaceful. Peaceful enough to sleep through the night.

Pascal took the meat off and they all ate like ravished dogs, putting up with burnt fingers and scorched mouths for the chance of having a full belly once again. They ate in silence, everyone too hungry to make conversation. Flynn saw Rapunzel sneak Maximus food out of the corner of his eye.

The early morning sun beat down on them as they finished up, Pascal all too eager to put out the dying fire with his urine. They made their way to the tanker, Rapunzel and Maximus climbing into the cab and Flynn taking the driver's seat. Pascal climbed in after them, then opened the sunroof. He shimmied onto the top of the cab, then leapt the gap between the cabin and the tanker. Flynn watched as he walked the length of the eighteen wheeler to the Volkswagen look out attached to the back.

They settled in and Flynn started up the truck. He glanced at the compass mounted on the dashboard and turned the vehicle westward. Margot said they would have to cross the salt flats to reach the City of Lights. If they could find the salt flats, then they could find the city.


	11. Starry Night

**Starry Night**

Now that Flynn knew the Brothers and Gothel were after them, he wasn't sure a fabled City of Lights would be enough to save them. Before, Corona was an idea and a place to drive towards; something that gave their little endeavor purpose. But now with their lives in danger more so than before, it was their only chance of survival. If they could get to the city before the other Riders, would it be enough? Would they be safe there? Rapunzel had spent the last few minutes telling Pascal all about the city. She talked of a crude, but functioning form of government, a high cement wall that bordered the city, electricity and running water and enough food rations to go around. She talked about soil that actually grew produce and people that wanted to befriend their neighbors instead of kill them. Flynn wondered how much, if any, was true and how much Rapunzel had formulated in her mind in order to give herself hope. A few days ago he would have told her to shut up about the city, but he couldn't bear to squander the one dream she held so close to her heart.

Flynn wanted to believe in Corona. He wanted to desperately to believe in a place where he no longer had to be afraid, but it just seemed too good to be true. He listened to her stories regardless, allowing himself to get lost in the thought of a better life.

Rapunzel pulled the folded piece of paper out from the pocket of her overalls and handed it to Pascal to look at. He opened the paper carefully, eyes wide.

"What will you do when we get to the city?" the boy asked Rapunzel.

She shrugged. "First I'll buy myself some new paint. Then see if they have a library and if they do, I'll read every book I can get my hands on."

"You won't be a mechanic?" Flynn asked, surprised. When he imagined Rapunzel, she was never far from a car engine. He couldn't see her doing much else with the talent she had for cars.

Rapunzel shook her head. "I know I'm good with cars, but that's all Gothel made me do back at the garage. I was the best mechanic in a hundred mile radius, easy. The only thing that kept us in business was my ability to take apart and engine, and being made to do that day in and day out, well…it just looses its appeal. A few years ago I would have jumped at the chance to work in a real mechanic shop, on something other than a rusty junker. But now, I don't ever want to dirty my hands with motor oil again. I want to do something else. Become an artist, or a geologist, or a musician. Even a candle stick maker. Just something that doesn't involve cars," she rambled, then chuckled nervously. She twisted around to look at Pascal in the back seat, who, after a few hours, had finally made his way back to the cabin from the turret. "What about you?" she asked.

Flynn glanced at Pascal in the rear view mirror, realizing he knew very little about the boy.

"I like making things," Pascal replied. "You know those gas grenades we bombarded you with? My invention. I created the pulley system in the storage units that we strung you up with. I like inventing things and taking things apart then putting them back together…so I don't know. Maybe apprentice somewhere? Then start a bug collection, because I think they're cool but my mom would never let me have one in the house. What about you Flynn?"

"I don't know," Flynn replied honestly. He spent his whole life doing what the Riders told him to do, so he had no idea what _he_ wanted to do. Perhaps in another life he would have liked to have a family and a home since he never had that as a child. Maybe he wanted to be a welder or a politician or a farmer. He couldn't imagine himself in any of those positions of course, since the only thing he seemed to know how to do was terrify the helpless and bully supplies from the defenseless.

"There must be something," Pascal urged.

Flynn's grip on the steering wheel tightened, annoyed. Maybe he could work with the city's guard, since he was good with a gun, but like Rapunzel, the idea of aiming a gun at another person had become something of a nuisance for him. He wanted a job doing something helpful, not destructive.

Sensing his uneasiness, Rapunzel spoke up.

"Well it's a city," she said with a smile, "We will find somewhere for you to fit."

The words somehow did not make him feel any better. Rapunzel folded up her advertisement and tucked it away, the conversation forgotten. She turned to stare out her window and Flynn did the same.

They had been driving for days since they met back at the garage and Flynn was ready to see sign of this city. Margot said something about the salt flats. How long would they have to drive before they found the flats? And once they did, how far until they reached the city? Rapunzel's instructions on driving west until they reached the coast, hopefully finding the city along the way, was from a drunk mans mouth. It wasn't reliable. If they get to the coast and never found the city, then what? Would they keep driving, endlessly searching for a place that didn't exist? There were too many variables connected with the City of Lights that made Flynn uneasy. Yes, it was a common goal for them to strive towards, but at what cost and when did it end?

He sighed out loud, watching the sun slip low on the horizon. He glanced at the compass mounted in the dashboard, making sure they were still headed west.

"Let's pull over for the night," Flynn said. All this talk of Corona made him unsettled and he couldn't sit in the tanker for much longer.

Rapunzel nodded and Flynn slowed the tanker and parked it. Rapunzel, Maximus and Pascal climbed out, hauling the gear with them to set up camp. As soon as he was out of the cab, Maximus barked happily, thumping and rolling around in the sand. Rapunzel stretched her limbs, glancing at Flynn, still buckled in the drivers seat.

"Are you coming?" she asked.

"In a minute."

She glanced at Pascal, who shrugged, and the two of them walked off to start a fire. Flynn glanced at the sunroof, twisting the handle and pushing it open. He pulled himself onto the hood if the tanker, jumped onto the tank attached, and walked its length to the lookout. He ducked inside, sitting on the cool metal and looking out the Volkswagen windshield, his eyes tracing the tire tracks they had just formed in the sand. He scanned the vast Wasteland, looking for signs of the Riders. When he didn't see billows of sand on the horizon, he sighed contentedly, and sat back in the shaded cover of the lookout turret.

For the longest time he had dreamed of being free from the Compound. He hadn't thought of anything but that, and while they were still on the run, freedom was close enough to be a real possibility. But he had spent so much time thinking about his escape, he never bothered to think about what he was going to do next. His whole life was defined by the Riders. Who was he if he wasn't a Rider?

"Hey!" a voice called from below.

Flynn sighed. He couldn't even get a few seconds of peace to wallow in self-pity.

"Go away Rapunzel," he called.

There was silence for a moment, then the sound of boots on the iron ladder. He listened to her climb the back of the tanker, until her face appeared in the window.

"What's wrong?" she asked, looking at Flynn through the dusty windshield. He shifted forward, frowning at her.

"The problem is I can't get a minute of silence to myself," he snapped.

Rapunzel ignored his attitude, coming around the back of the turret and ducking inside after him. She settled on her knees, facing him.

"What's the real problem?" she asked.

Flynn sat back against the wall of the lookout. He scratched at his goatee then sighed. "It's stupid."

Rapunzel inched herself a little closer, expectantly. He watched her, rolling his eyes.

"I just don't know…what's going to happen to me," Flynn said. "I'm just worried that I've spent so much time being a Rider that I don't know how to do anything else. And if we do find this city, I'm not sure they'll welcome a former gang member past their walls. Or if we even find the city. What if it doesn't exist? I've been dreaming about being my own man, but I'm not sure what that even _is_ …"

Flynn pursed his lips, hating how whiney he sounded, but like the night before, he felt good to talk to someone; someone he trusted. She looked at him, brows furrowed slightly as she thought about what he said.

"Everyone is trying to find their place in the Wasteland," she said slowly, "That's all our lives have been about, is survival—"

"I _know_ ," Flynn said, "But if we make it to Corona, it won't be about surviving anymore. We'll be living like people were meant to live and I don't think I belong in a society like that. I'm…I'm scared I don't belong anywhere but with the Riders. And that _terrifies_ me."

Rapunzel shifted closer again, scooting on her knees until there was only few inches of space between them.

"Flynn, what you told me last night…you're not a Rider," she said softly, "You were a little boy who went through something terrible. You didn't have a choice. Since I've met you, you've agreed to drive me across the Wasteland, you came back for me the night Margot's sanctuary was in flames, you brought Pascal with us, you rescued me from my mother; those are decisions of a decent man. Someone who deserves better than what life offered him. Someone who doesn't give himself enough credit," she said. "If I hadn't met you, I would still be back at the garage, miserable and looking for every excuse to stay with Gothel. You gave me a reason to leave."

Flynn didn't say anything; he barley made any indication that he heard her. But her words sank deep into his bones, making him feel less uncertain about himself. When he didn't say anything, she continued.

"I'm worried too," Rapunzel said. "Corona is everything I've hoped for but I'm scared its all for nothing. I'm not stupid. I know the odds are stacked against me. The chances of a functioning city in a desolate landscape like this are slim to none and…what if it's not everything I dreamed it would be? What if we get to the coast, and I've put us through all this mess, only to find an ocean?"

Flynn's eyes flickered to her.

"You always seem so sure of Corona," he murmured.

"I know," she said, "Because if I let myself dwell on that sliver of doubt I end up…well, like you. Bitter and hopeless," she said, giving Flynn a half smile to let him know she was teasing. His lips twitched at her slight. "I have to believe it's real. And you have to believe you're a better man than you think you are."

She reached out and took his hand carefully. Flynn tensed under her touch, his gazed narrowed in warning. She didn't seem to notice as she gave him a gentle, reassuring smile. There was a sadness and uncertainty in her eyes though that Flynn couldn't pin point. He looked down at their hands, wanting to pull his away, but deciding to remain still.

"I've never seen the ocean before," he commented.

"Then its settled. No matter what we find heading west, ocean or city, we take it in stride, then find a new dream to chase," Rapunzel said softly.

There was a thump underneath them; Pascal banging on the side of the tanker to get their attention. They both jumped, Rapunzel quickly releasing Flynn's hand and moving back to the other side of the turret.

"There better be a good reason you two are up there and I'm down here setting up camp _by myself!_ " he yelled, annoyed.

Flynn and Rapunzel looked at each other, Flynn smirking and Rapunzel grinning sheepishly. She climbed out of the crawl space and Flynn followed her down the ladder. Pascal waited at the bottom with Maximus by his side, both looking put off. He crossed his arms.

"If you two lovebirds are finished…" Pascal said.

Rapunzel's cheeks flushed and she breezed past him, Maximus trotting after her towards the fire.

Pascal looked up at Flynn, who reached over and flicked his ear sharply.

"Ow!" Pascal said, clamping a hand to the side of his head. With his free hand, he swung a wild hit at Flynn. He sidestepped the cheap shot and laughed as Pascal stumbled over his feet.

"Gotta be quicker than that, kid," Flynn said, walking back towards the fire. "And a wider stance will do you good," he called over his shoulder.

Pascal huffed and marched after them, settling himself down by the fire, right between Rapunzel and Flynn. The sun had set and the temperature of the desert night dropped significantly. There wasn't much left to eat so they ate in silence, everyone wondering how long the three of them could survive off dried fruit and a can of beans, but no one willing to mention it. Flynn knew they had to find more food soon. They couldn't rely on his hunting skills.

Flynn bunched up his leather jacket to cushion his head as he laid down. Rapunzel spread out a blanket next to him and she, Pascal and Maximus curled up on it.

"See those cluster of stars?" Rapunzel asked, pointing up at the night sky.

"Yes," said Pascal.

"That's Cetus the Sea Monster and the bright star over there is Mira," she said, her finger tracing invisible lines across the sky. Flynn draped an arm over his eyes as he listened. "Once, my mother brought me a book about the stars and what they represent. I spent months charting constellations. Look, there's Orion the Hunter. And the Gemini twins, Castor and Pollux."

Flynn sat up, hearing the Bothers names. The hairs on his arm stood on end, and unfortunate side effect of spending his childhood tortured by those two, and his adult years running from them.

"What?" he growled.

"The Brothers named themselves after a constellation," Rapunzel said, "I assumed you knew that."

"I didn't. What's their story?"

"Pollux was immortal but his brother wasn't. When Castor died, Pollux asked the gods if he could share his immortality so the two were turned into stars so they would always be together."

"Gross."

"It's just a story Flynn," Rapunzel said with a sigh. Pascal sniggered.

Flynn laid back down as Pascal asked for more stories about the stars. He listened to Rapunzel talk, her words lulling him to sleep.

He wasn't sure how long he slept, but at some point in the night, he startled awake. He laid there for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, figuring that it must have been another nightmare that woke him. He briefly wondered if they would ever stop.

He felt something warm on his back. He slowly rolled his head to look over his shoulder. During the night, Rapunzel had curled herself against him, her nose nuzzled between his shoulder blades and her arms tucked against his lower back. Pascal slept on the other side of her, the two of them sleeping back to back. Pascal's arm was resting over an empty space where Maximus should have been. Flynn sat up slowly, trying not to disturb the two. He reached for the knapsack, rummaging through their diminished supplies to find the flashlight.

In the distance somewhere, Maximus barked. Flynn sighed, guessing that that was what had woken him up in the middle of the night. He retrieved the flashlight and flicked it on, the beam of light illuminating the sand. The barking grew louder. Maximus must have found something to chase.

Flynn started in the direction of the barking, but before he made it more than a couple of feet, the sound turned hysterical. Maximus's frantic barking was suddenly lost in a barrage of howling, whimpering and growling. Flynn's clutched the torch, stopping in his tracks.

"What's going on?" said a sleepy voice behind him. He turned to see Rapunzel sitting up, watching him with tired, bloodshot eyes. Pascal rolled over, yawning. He opened his eyes but quickly shut them when the beam from the flashlight flared in his face.

The excited whining of wild dogs became louder and Rapunzel's eyes grew wide with worry.

"Max?" she called. "Maximus!" She scrambled to her feet, taking off in the direction of the noise, flipping up sand as she ran barefoot across the desert.

"Rapunzel, wait!" Flynn called after her. He turned to Pascal hurriedly, "Stay here," he commanded then took off after Rapunzel, stumbling over the sand. He could hear Pascal's muffled cry of, "Where are you going!" behind him, but didn't stop to answer. He called Rapunzel's name. The light from the flashlight waved haphazardly across the sand, illuminating things a few seconds at a time as Flynn ran. A flash of sagebrush. Sand. Rapunzel's golden hair. Sand. A streak of brown fur. Sand. The sounds coming from the dogs were hellish, high pitched screeches that Flynn never knew could come out of an animal.

He steadied the light, finally catching up to Rapunzel and seizing her arm. The two staggered to a stop, Flynn pointing the light towards a melee of fur, snarling, teeth and claws. And Maximus in the middle of it all.

"Max!" Rapunzel screeched.

A pack of dingoes converged on Maximus, snapping their wide jaws and howling with excitement. Rapunzel's dog was in the sand on his back, growling and kicking. Tuffs of fur and speckles of blood littered the ground around them.

Flynn drew his double barrel, aimed it at the sky and fired two shots. The wild dogs looked up, their muzzles wet and red, ears pointed, and eyes a blank green from the reflected light of Flynn's torch. They scattered, their whooping and howling echoing across the landscape and sending shivers down Flynn's spine. When it fell quiet, Rapunzel ran to the Koolie, dropping on her knees next to him. Flynn followed slowly, eyeing Maximus's bloodied fur and shallow, rapid breathing.

"No," Rapunzel murmured. "No, no, no, no, Maximus."

She ran her hands across his fur, which fell out in tawny clumps. Maximus whined, a high pitched, desperate sound. Flynn went around and kneeled on the other side of the dog, glancing at Rapunzel. Silent tears were rolling down her cheeks. She sniffed. He dropped the flashlight next to them in the sand, yellow highlights etching the sides of their faces.

"Maximus, Max, Max, Max," she chanted, "No, no, no, no."

Her hands shook as she pet Maximus. He shifted in the sand, a half attempt to get to his feet, but he whimpered and laid back down again. Rapunzel shushed him.

"Good boy, good dog Maximus. Good boy."

Flynn's brows pulled together as he frowned. There was too much blood and Maximus's cries were becoming less and less. The dingoes had torn him to pieces.

"Rapunzel…" Flynn said gently.

She shook her head quickly, grabbing a fistful of Maximus's fur and pulling the dog closer to her body. "Wait," she said quietly, sniffling some more. She kept petting Maximus, burying her fingers in his soft fur and nuzzling him close to her body. She kept repeating his name. She looked up at Flynn, one side of her face lit by the torch, the other shrouded in shadow, making her skin look waxy.

"We need to put him down," Flynn said as gently as he could, "He's in pain."

She choked back a sob but nodded.

"I want to do it."

Flynn pursed his lips, considering her for a moment before handing over his shotgun. She took the weapon with shaking hands, placing the double barrel against the side of Maximus's head.

"H-here?"

Flynn reached over and carefully place his hand over hers, moving the barrel up towards the top of Maximus's head, then back a few centimeters. He left his hand over hers. She was shaking too much to aim properly and pull the trigger.

"Ready?" Flynn asked. Rapunzel didn't reply, but he guided her finger to the trigger and she didn't fight him. She took a shuttering breath, her other hand still stroking Maximus's body. Maximus's ears flickered towards the sound of her voice. Flynn could see the whites of his eyes. He looked at Rapunzel and beneath his hand, she yanked the trigger back forcefully, as though if she didn't do it quick enough she wouldn't have been able to go through with it. The crack of the gun was deafening in the dark.

Rapunzel let out a gasp, her hands going limp to her sides. She sat back on her heels, sucking in shallow breaths and letting her tears fall freely. Flynn holstered the gun at his thigh, looking down at Maximus. He reached out and sunk his fingers into the dogs still warm fur. He never cared for animals, and certainly not for Maximus, but he owed Maximus his life. And to watch him go so brutally. It was unfair.

They sat for a few minutes before Rapunzel stood up. Flynn followed her, grabbing up the flashlight and stepping over Maximus to fall in step next to her as they walked back to camp.

"I'll bury him, if you'd like," Flynn asked.

Rapunzel gave a jerk of her head that Flynn guessed was a nod. He would come back later, once Rapunzel settled down and he was sure she would be okay, he would come back and bury Maximus. It wouldn't be like back at Margot's sanctuary, where Bones was left lying in the street and they peeled out of the city before they had a chance to process the aftermath. Maximus would get a proper burial, even for a dog, and Rapunzel could say her goodbyes. Flynn looked down at Rapunzel's hands, which still quivered. He stared at them before reaching out and taking her hand in his. Her fingers were limp for a moment as they walked, before finally curling themselves around Flynn's fist. They walked back to camp in silence.

 **Authors Note: Sorry if this chapter seems a bit repetitive. Sorry for the long wait, and sorry if the chapter wasn't worth it, but it's been one heck of a year for me. I do plan to finish the story, it just might take some time. It it also under revision right now, nothing major, but hopefully an improvement! Happy holidays to all my wonderful reviewers. Thanks for your support!**


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